Fuel to the Flame
by CorgisAreMySoul
Summary: I was absolutely sure that I had died. I was slammed into viciously by a car and bled to death on the open road, mere minutes away from being saved by paramedics. I had died. I was sure of it. I did not think it was possible to be reborn. Much less as the twin sister of Izuku Midoriya. My name is Ichido Midoriya and now I have to figure out why I even exist. DISCONTINUED
1. Impact

**Title(s): Eternal Flame (Current), Eternity.**

 **Warnings: Violent/Descriptive Death, Reincarnation themes (which are not religiously affiliated with Buddhism or Hinduism), Child Labor, and extensive cursing. This work has been rated T for such reasons.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Boku no Hero Academia. Trust me when I say you wouldn't want me to own it.**

 **Last Edited as of 4-10-19**

 **DISCONTINUED ~ Yeah, this is happening.**

 **Look, I just can't write this story anymore. I don't have a passion for it anymore, I don't even think about it. The only times I am reminded about this story is when someone leaves a review, and that often isn't even enough to get me writing.**

 **There's just a lot about this story that I regret because I started writing this in 2016 (I hesitated to publish this in 2017) when I was still a freshman. I was very naive then, and it was a dark period in my life where I stopped caring about a lot of things. I really let myself go that year. I've gotten better since the beginning of junior year; I've been trying to be more proactive in taking care of myself and my mental health. I had a disgusting mentality during the first two years of high school.**

 **Last summer came as a reflection period, and I really couldn't stand the person I had become. I was pessimistic, intolerant, a pushover, and _too_ impulsive for my own good. I'm still some of these things, and it'll take time to change that. I can't do anything to make it go faster, I can only try to change it.**

 **Despite that, I still published a chapter for this story in August, and that came as a regret too since it made me more upset with my personality.**

 **I just feel as though this story was a huge mask to cover up those personality issues, to distract myself from real life. For a while, it worked. I had a real passion for writing this when I first started; I published the first few chapters within the same month. I really loved writing, and I would neglect the social life and home life I should have been building. It was a time when I didn't want to talk to my parents ever, it was a time when I disdained everyone around me, it was a time when I thought _I_ was the target of everyone's thoughts, and it was a time when I didn't want to confront anyone, ever.**

 **And I thought I was perfectly okay with these disgusting things, I was okay with being a disgusting person. The amount of follows/favorites this got did not help either; it justified my being a disgusting person in my mind, it justified that it was okay to ignore my personality flaws to write away my problems.**

 **Ichido, as an SI-OC, is my ideal person. She was everything I wanted to be, and some of what I was. I was not great at self-reflection in the past, and in the last year I started to realize that. I changed most of this story to state that she was an OC, not an SI-OC, mainly because I just didn't feel like she was _me_ anymore. There was just so much that kept me from being sympathetic, encouraging, selfless, sarcastic, brave, etc. like she was, and I have come to terms with that.**

 **I've been more open to my readers and reviewers in the past year, and I know there are many mistakes I had made in the past with this story due to my impulsiveness. While there had been a victim complex in the past, I know these things are my fault and that I had rolled with them too long. I've tried to change myself now, but there's just so much to work with in the face of this behemoth.**

 **It's a conglomeration of things I hate. I don't want to touch it, let alone think of it. It's come to be something disgusting by association to that dark time.**

 **It is with a heavy heart that I thank you all for following me on this journey. I can't let this go on anymore, not when I've tried to justify writing this with excuses and obligations in the last year. There is no love left in my heart for this story.**

 **However, for how many of you who cherished this story, I admire how you had love in your heart for this story.**

 **I'm just sorry to disappoint everyone who wanted more from this journey.**

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 **Text Key:**

 _Italics_ = Emphasized thoughts/text/dialogue

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I did not expect death to be so short.

At least, not as short as it played out to be. It was a rather simple death, one that plagued me to no end.

I was a law-abiding Samaritan, minding my own business whilst walking across the street in a timely manner and then _bam!_ I was then laying on the road like a puppet with the strings cut loose, except that particular puppet had the ability to _bleed and die_. Painfully. A _goddamn_ car hit me with absolutely no falter in speed beforehand. It was like the driver was _trying_ to hit me.

I was shuddering violently as I felt the warm, sappy blood ooze out of my body. The cold air collided violently with the raw skin, only furthering my feelings of absolute frigidness. It was in those last few moments that I remembered a small moment with my mother years upon years earlier...

I think I was seven... probably. I remembered that our family car broke down about a mile away from our house that was tucked away from the closest city. My mother and I had to walk all of the way home with groceries in tow while my father got our car towed off to the mechanic.

It was a rather long walk as far as I could remember, no dialogue was exchanged nor was there anything to look at. A few cars passed by on the empty crossroads but the little town stayed as quiet as it was usually.

At the time, I had _absolutely_ no idea how to cross the road (which is rather shameful for an American child, mind you) and I thought that once that little sign on the other side of the road flashed the walk signal, you had to _book it_ across the road like a murderer was about to catch you and drag you to your _bloody death_. Of course, I was wrong. The thing was, _nobody_ ever told me that I was wrong. God was I an _idiot_.

So when that sign said to walk, guess what I, the _ever-so-smart seven-year-old_ , did? I dashed across that road like there was no tomorrow, even shamelessly adding the classic 'anime run' that you see in almost every shonen jump anime in existence.

Of course, a car just so happened to be speeding by at the moment and my mother barely caught me from smacking straight into the headlights of the vehicle and chunked me back over to the sidewalk. The talk I got after that was more than the healthy amount of words someone should say in a single day and left my head spinning for a good three hours afterward.

It was after the whole chiding session that my mother just sighed and ended with a tired "At least you know now" which was absolutely untrue to every degree. Cause, _of course,_ your child almost getting hit by a car _immediately_ taught them how to cross the road. No, that made _so much_ sense. Note the sarcasm there. Just pointing it out.

And thus, I actually, seriously, not joking about this, _never_ learned how to cross the street. Now you may possibly be wondering, how could I _not_ learn how to cross the street?

Well, the answer is simple: you become a hardcore introvert that never leaves the house for anything other than school, food, and water. I was rather cozy living this odd lifestyle and I seriously preferred it over having to crawl out of my house and face the real world. To think it all started because I never learned how to cross the street...

And of course, that choice of lifestyle just had to come back to chomp me in the ass. Why was I crossing the street when I was hit? Well, I was unfortunately forced into a situation where I couldn't hitch a ride with either my friends or parents and I needed to get to school. I was unlucky to have missed the bus and my school was a good thirty-minute walk away, a good amount of stop lights and railroad tracks to trek over. I did not have my driver's license yet, only a permit. Everyone knows that you can't drive alone with only a permit; you needed to have an adult who was fully capable of taking the wheel if you were to fail horribly with you while driving at all times. Not to mention, driving gave me serious anxiety when it came to the tests and whatnot.

So I did the next best thing and walked wherever I went, doing whatever I needed to do with my own two legs. It made me feel independent, to _some_ extent, but I knew that what I was doing was about normal for any other teenager so I didn't make much of it. If I had known that it would be last time I would feel that independent in years, I would have cherished those steps much more than I did.

A mere minute before my untimely demise, the stoplight, which I had still dreaded with my _soul_ , had turned red, signaling the walk sign to buzz to life and signal pedestrians to go along the highlighted path. It was a simple routine, one that everyone should know. But things don't always turn out the way you expect them to.

There is always a little room for disaster with every action you take.

This one happened to be a driver who was texting and did not seem to notice the five-foot human-directed right in front of them. I question this person's sanity. Not only because they were texting while driving, which almost every person knew not to do because it was endlessly drilled into our heads when we learned how to drive, but also the fact that it had to be extremely difficult to miss a fully grown human being right in front of you.

The world moved in slow motion, the car's operator finally realizing that I was a living being and not just a road sign and beginning to slam their feet on the pedal. Before they could stop, it was too late. I slammed into the front of the vehicle with the force of a freight train, my entire body revolting at the sudden impact.

In seconds, I was lying on the ground, wheezing like an asthmatic on the verge of combusting their lungs, and darting my eyes from both the huge gash in my side which was hurting like hell and the driver who had _oh_ - _so_ _graciously_ stopped and got out of their car to see the damage they had caused to me. I'm sure they did not even care, they were probably just worried about whether or not their goddamn insurance would cover this.

My world was spinning and the faint blaring siren of an ambulance and police cars could possibly be heard, the noise slowly getting louder and louder as the vehicles presumably got closer. I had hope. Heaps and heaps of pure, unadulterated hope. I would be saved from this nightmare, this pain, and this reckless driver who was hopelessly stuttering, fussing over me, and apologizing at a rate I did not think humanly possible. Looks like they cared about me after all.

 _Hmph_ , not like it mattered now. I was dying, about to kick the bucket. Every euphemism for dying you can name, I was doing it. I honestly thought that I could come out of this alive, _I really did_. It was only then that I realized that I could not move my body a single inch and that I had been impacted in the spine. Even if I survived, I would be condemned to a life of disability for the rest of my days.

I closed my eyes, not willing to look at the world that was about to toss my life away as if it were garbage. Was human life all that valuable when things like this happened every day? That driver that hit me would live on, my parents would grieve but eventually move on, my friends would slowly forget me as the sands of time drifted by. It was the one question that made me wonder why my life ever mattered in the first place. My life was about to be purged in such unequivocal silence whilst those who surrounded me were drowned out by the simple unfairness of my situation. Nothing could possibly be done, nothing could possibly be said.

That was the last way I wanted to go out, especially in regard to my hubris and legacy. I did not want to be pegged as that girl whose death _'was a shame'_. I did not want to be seen as wasted talent or someone whose mortality could not have been helped. All of these inhibitions were topped off by my worst fear, however: I didn't want to be forgotten. If I was, then it would truly be as if I had never even existed in the first place.

Strained tears leaked out of my shut sockets, insensitively staining my face for what would be the last time. Would I even be remembered at all?

I suppose I'll never have that question answered as I went numb at that moment. There was silence. Darkness. The world's noises and feel were completely gone from my consciousness. I couldn't see nor hear. I couldn't move nor feel. I felt hopelessly stuck in those few moments of immaculate silence. And then...

There was light.

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If there was a word to describe the odd sensation I was feeling, it would definitely be _less tame_ than the word uncomfortable.

I felt weak and utterly drained. Somehow, I also felt surprisingly squeezed at the moment, almost as if someone were hugging my entire body in one fell swoop. I was confused and being assaulted by a cacophony of noises. The mechanical beeping of machines could be heard as well as the high-pitched wails of an adult woman. I wanted _so badly_ to know what was happening.

 **"Pusshu, Inko, pusshu!"** an unrecognizable voice yelled over the deafening noise. I could not tell what they were saying and there was just so much screaming.

At that moment, another piercing sound added to the absolute mess of noise that plagued the room. This time, I knew what that noise was. It was crying, one of an infant.

What the hell.

I needed to know what was happening, why I was still feeling and breathing. Why wasn't I actually _dead_? Shouldn't I have been ascending to heaven or something? I wanted to know why I wasn't following the natural order of death, why I was still pumping precious blood throughout my body. I wanted to use my _voice_.

I opened my stiff lips to voice my thoughts, completely baffled when a mind-numbing screech came pouring out of my own mouth. I felt my eyebrows knit together, myself being utterly surprised by such an _undignified_ noise exiting my body. I tried again.

Another wail entered the open air, filling the room with the wonderful sounds of high pitched squealing. I clamped my lips shut once more and set to work thinking of a reason why my own body was refusing to work properly. Before I could try again at speaking, the squeezing that surrounded my body tightened accompanied by the small murmurs of words in the same incomprehensible language as before.

Something was shoved gently into my mouth, the rubbery texture of the item squeaking against my tongue. Instinctively, my hands went to grasp the object being held up to my mouth and held it at an odd angle. My body was doing this. I didn't _want_ to do this.

I could have sworn I was about to have an aneurysm from all this confusion when I started to suckle on the rubbery object. Once again, my body had full control and was _unwilling_ to compromise on imbibing this object that had intruded its way into my mouth. An oddly delicious and light liquid slid down my throat as I continued to practically inhale the rubber. Was this... milk?

The realization crept into my mind slowly. It made _more_ and _more_ sense as I continued to absently drink from the rubbery apparatus.

I was not going to consider it, I did not _want_ to consider it. The answer was so blatantly obvious why this was happening to me, why I was still breathing and why I wasn't in some sort of afterlife. I did not want to accept it, I _couldn't_.

This harsh reality still existed, no matter how much I didn't want to consider something like this real.

I had just been reincarnated as a child, an infant.

What the _hell_.

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 **This hasn't been asked yet, but I'm sensing a pre-emptive: Will you ever continue this or rewrite it?**

 **If I have to answer this, I would say no to continuing this iteration. There's just so much wrong with it.**

 **I may rewrite this story in the future when I'm more stable to self-reflect onto an SI-OC. I just can't do it now, not when I'm trying to change myself. I'll continue my other stories since they aren't SI-OC, but this one is just too painful for me to think about.**


	2. Ashes

**Warnings for this chapter: Breastfeeding, cursing, and some existential crisis-ing.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except Ichido.**

 **Last Edited 3-8-18**

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 **Text Key:**

 _Italics_ = Emphasized thoughts/text/dialogue

 **"Dialogue"** = Japanese Dialogue (For the sake of organization)

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Holy shit.

I was actually a baby.

I was actually, really a baby.

The cliché-ness of it all was just too much for me. I did not want my life to go to waste and I didn't want to be forgotten. I'd even thought that before I died. I guess whatever deity that exists out there took that as my dying wish and granted me another fucking life. A bit overkill on that, don't ya think?

I mean, I was not particularly upset at the idea of continuing to live on, but the universe could have at least granted me a re-do of my own life. Being in this predicament made me pitiful of the poor soul that I had just robbed the body of. Whoever they were going to be was destroyed because of me. Cause I just had to reincarnate into this body.

A part of me urged myself to let this justified guilt go and to take the opportunity to live once again. I wanted to, all my aspirations were once again within arm's reach but...

I could never be who I was ever again.

By being birthed by another mother, becoming kin to a new family, I had become a completely different person and cursed myself with the fate of change. I couldn't goof off with my old friends or hang out with my previous parents. I couldn't go to those family meetings that I openly hated, but secretly enjoyed. I couldn't continue where I left off in my academic life; it would take years for me to reach high school again. It was as if someone had hit the reset button but didn't press it all the way.

I don't understand why I had my memories. Why were they even remotely important here? If I had to be reincarnated, why did I have to remember all the pain and suffering of the real world? I wanted the innocence of a child, to be uncaring about crime or war and to be able to make a huge fuss over small things like losing my favorite toy or making a mess with my food. Instead, I was tainted. Tainted with the duskiness of an adult. Tainted with fear of the real world.

I knew that the moment I realized I was a newborn. I would never be like other children as I grew up in this life. I would be a freak, the outcast.

And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

While other children cried over a toppled ice cream and threw tantrums over not getting that newest toy, I would be silently sitting in the corner, contemplating whether or not I would actually die again the next day. I knew.

The thing that I was most worried about was the sanity of my parents in this world. They would catch onto the idea that something was wrong with me. Maybe even go as far as to see therapists. They would be so confused and I would be so mad at myself for making them feel that way.

I didn't want to be like this. I don't want to be like this.

No. I wouldn't be like this. Paranoia had never done me any good in my old life and I doubt it will in this one.

Whether the universe liked it or not, I refused to let this new life change who I am.

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I was gagging on my bottle.

It was appropriate to say that it was definitely a new experience. For sure, it's one I'll never forget.

The person who had been feeding me for the time being, whom I had assumed to be a nurse at the hospital I was in, accidentally shoved the nipple of the bottle way too far into my throat and triggered my favorite human reflex. The gag reflex.

The nurse's incompetence made me really wonder whether or not she was fully qualified to be there.

I was hacking and choking, clearly causing the nurse to go into a panic attack as I continued to suffocate on the life-giving liquid that had leaked into my trachea and was sputtering out of my mouth in rather repulsive globs of mucus-like liquid. I had managed to disgust myself. Accomplishing new things even at birth...

It took a lot of patting on my back to calm me down, even as I was trying my best to reign in the wild emotions that ran loose. My body demanded that I cry because I was 'hurt'. I wasn't hurt, not even a scratch, but my body interpreted the simplest poke as an assault against my person.

I hated this. This feeling of helplessness against my own body. It was degrading.

It was safe to say that I had absolutely no idea where I had been born. It must have been an Asian country of some sort because of the little snippets of language I had heard from the mouths of the hurried staff. All I needed now was to hear a common greeting to be absolutely sure. It was odd how most people knew how to say 'hello' of all things in other languages.

The nurse who had been cuddling me finally dropped her facade of kindness and continued to force feed me my milk. I did not want milk, so I feebly slapped at the plastic bottle, blindly aiming for her incredibly rough and calloused hands. It was after a few seconds of this repeated action that the nurse finally caught wind of what I was doing and muttered about my refusal to eat. Too bad I could not comprehend what she said, it was probably something I could have reveled in.

I'd just managed to rile up a fully grown woman.

I felt my body lift up from the place where I was settled and move. I was then unceremoniously plopped onto a soft pillow. At least, I assumed it was a pillow. The bitter nurse muttered a little more about something and walked away, her obnoxiously loud high heels clopping against the ground.

Finally, some time to myself.

For about, like, ten seconds. Since I was being cared for in a hospital, I could tell from the sickening smell of antiseptic and the occasional screams that would come from nearby rooms, I had assumed that I was inside the infirmary. You know, that room that always seemed to remind me of the egg nests from Alien but with just babies. I was probably an undistinguishable child in the rows upon rows of either pacified or screaming infants. At the moment, all of the other babies seemed to be dozing off.

The door to the room swung open, the slight screech of the door making me flinch. Heavy footsteps invaded the previous silence of the room and creeped me out slightly. The sound reminded me eerily of those kinds of footsteps you hear in a horror movie.

The clapping of this person's shoes stopped unsettlingly close to me. Just when I thought it could not get more strange, two huge hands clamped themselves around my minuscule body and raised me into the air. I protested with little gurgling noises, not even close to the slew of curse words I wanted to scream at this stranger. Curse my undeveloped vocal chords...

I must have been suspended in the air for a long time because the person who was holding me up did not move their arms for a solid minute. They seemed to just be staring at me. Maybe in awe, maybe in disgust; I wouldn't be in a position to tell until I had the ability to see.

Finally, the figure hugged me close to them. I felt the slight roughness of cotton scraping against my soft, delicate skin. I heard a heartbeat, steady and strong as it thumped heartily against my carrier's chest and my small head.

I instinctively calmed down at the repetitive rhythm, slowly letting my breathing fall into sync with the one of my holder's. I had assumed this person to be a man, mainly because his breathing was deep and his chest was just too flat to be one of a woman's. I mean, this person was basically as flat as a cutting board.

For some unknown reason, he smelled like a fireplace and the odor was absolutely intoxicating for my day-old body.

I was only slightly embarrassed by the fact that I was aggressively sniffing this man's shirt.

He finally spoke after an eternity of silence, affirming the fact that he was, in fact, a man.

 **"Konnichi wa,"** the man greeted, his voice rumbling deeply against his chest. He added softly, **"Ichido."**

This confirmed it, I had definitely been born in Japan. Which was absolutely amazing because I loved Japanese culture.

The one thing that confused me, however, was the thing he added at the end of the sentence. What the hell did "Ichido" mean? Was it my name? Was it a good name?

I want answers goddammit.

The man bounced me on his hip, making oddly cute sounding noises with every little jump in the air. It was not extreme, but that nauseating feeling that you usually get on rollercoasters started to build up in my stomach. The man seemed to detect my discomfort and settled me back into his arms.

 **"Ichido, anata wa baunsu o osorete imasu ka?"** the man whispered, softly poking a finger against my nose.

I did not know what the hell he was saying, but I assumed it was something about me and bouncing. I hated bouncing. I would be sure to express that from now on.

The finger he had pressed against my tiny nose finally rose and ended up resting on my soft baby chest. My hands went straight for his one and brought it up to my mouth.

My instincts were acting in full swing, not even giving me the chance to fight against them as my body automatically shoved his fingers into my mouth. He did not seem too bothered by it, he didn't even bother to try and take his hand out of my drooling, gummy mouth. He let me chew softly on his fingers, fully knowing that he could not get hurt by my toothless maw.

I continued to unwillingly suckle on his fingers, my body still under the conceived notion that fingers could provide milk.

Silly body, fingers do not have milk!

God, how I wished that my infantile body could comprehend simple logic. It would make the next few years so much easier.

I think the man had enough of my chewing because he softly plucked his fingers out of my grasp and probably wiped the gross saliva off on his pants.

Not that I could blame him; I would have done the same thing. I grasped for his shirt and clutched it dearly. Whoever this man was, his body had practically imprinted on me. My instincts trusted him with my life. Me on the other hand, I still didn't know him. I didn't want to make any broad assumptions because for all I knew, maybe this guy was a male nurse or something.

He patted my arm that was practically attached to his shirt and moved to stroke my cheek. He caressed it lightly with his thumb, his forefinger resting on my forehead.

 **"Boku wa kimi no Otou-san,"** he whispered tenderly, continuing to pet my face.

Otou-san... Otou...wait. This man is... he's...

My father.

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I'd learned that I was not alone when I came into this world when I left the hospital.

It was simple to figure out once my two parents had to leave the hospital with one completely silent baby, me, and another bawling infant. Apparently, he was a boy and his name was Izuku. The only reason I had found out his name was due to the fact that my parents could not stop babbling about the two of us.

Every second it was either "Ichido", which I had figured was probably my new name, and "Izuku". I did not mind all of the attention at first, but it got extremely tiring when I could not understand what they were saying about me for maybe the millionth time.

At first, I didn't like the lack of being in a hospital. That smell of antiseptic that I had familiarized during my few-week stay was gone and my body didn't appreciate it. Thus, I felt extremely uncomfortable at home and didn't want to do anything without a lot of coaxing. The only thing that could convince me to drink my milk or fall asleep was my father's presence. His fireplace aroma had grown on me while I was in the hospital and made me love him almost instantaneously.

My mother, on the other hand, had a lot of struggles with me whenever father was working. If she wanted me to go to sleep, she had to haul out one of my father's coats from the closet and pretty much dump it on me. His coats were basically brimming to the edge with fireplace-smell and I couldn't help but pass out at the level of comfort.

To get me to consume milk, she had to wrap me around in one of my father's scarves and make me chug the milk while I was mentally incapacitated by the familiar odor. The only way to get me to do what she wanted was by using some sort of clothing from my father to get the job done.

It was when she started to breastfeed both me and my brother that this dependence on my father started to ebb away.

It was also then that I had first met my brother.

Our mother had decided to kill two birds with one stone and feed us at the same time, just so she could get her other work done and keep our small family financially stable. I could have said that it was unfair to the two of us that she didn't want to give us attention, but I thought it was okay because of the fact that I didn't want to live in a cardboard box for the entirety of my new childhood.

Oka-san, I had decided to call her that from now on mainly because I thought it would be good to adjust to my new culture, had picked me up from my crib and my brother from his. My sight was still blurry from not being developed enough, but I could start to make out different shapes and colors in my unfocused vision.

I saw the huge peach-colored glob with green around the top that I had come to know as our mother and another green-black blob with some peach-color near the bottom that was foreign to me. My instincts, as well as my own curiosity, wanted to find out who this newcomer was and if they were friendly or not.

Before I could act on my thoughts, my Oka-san started to feed the both of us on what I assumed to be the couch. I had the right, my brother the left. It was when I had accidentally kicked him with my jello-like legs that he made his presence known.

His reaction was more or less predictable. Baby gets hurt, baby cries. It was a simple formula that made children way too easy to please or upset.

Oka-san was slightly upset with my behavior, even going so far as gently hit me on my thigh even though it wasn't my fault that my cartilaginous legs were as easy to control as octopus arms.

My brother was wailing, Oka-san was struggling to control the both of us, and I was just cluelessly sitting in Oka-san's right arm as she tried to rock Izuku's problems into nothingness. I decided to try and help her too, mostly because it was partly my fault for kicking my brother.

I reached out with my tiny hand, grabbing at his blob-figure. I'd finally managed to grasp something and I realized that I had managed to wrangle up his leg. I tried again and this time got his arm. I held on and moved my hand to the edge of his kind of chubby arm. Once I found his hand, I held it tight.

His panic seemed to subside after a minute of just holding. I held him, not stopping for a moment. He seemed to finally notice the sentiment that was inside the gesture and squeezed my hand. I squeezed back.

Oka-san seemed to be infatuated with our sibling cuddles and put us on the couch to run and get a camera. The signature snap of the device was heard as well as a blinding flash to make our little faces visible in the frame.

It was small, but I was sure we made a friendship that day. I finally had the sibling that I had always wanted in my previous life.

If only I had known then that this friendship would open the door, a door to a much darker future than I had imagined

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 **Translations:**

 **"Boku wa kimi no Otou-san." = "I am your father."**

 **"Ichido, anata wa baunsu o osorete imasu ka?" = "Ichido, you're afraid of bouncies, aren't you?"**

 **"Konnichi wa" = "Hello"**

 **Ichido means "One time" or more precisely "Once" in Japanese. There is a reason for this name, but it can be explained later in future chapters.**

 **"Oka-san" = "Mom" or "Mother"**

 **"Otou-san" = "Dad" or "Father"**


	3. Windows to the Soul

**Warnings: Teenage complaining, small children, and more existential crises.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except my OC.**

 **Edited as of 3-8-18**

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 **Text Key:**

 _Italics_ = Emphasized Text

 **"Dialogue"** = Japanese Dialogue (Translations at Bottom!)

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The first three months of my new life were absolute _hell_.

The bland repetitiveness of each day was gnawing at my soul, slowly sucking the life out of my body. Every day was simple, _too_ simple for my tastes.

I would be woken up constantly by my own body for the feeding that needed to happen every few hours, lie in my crib for who knows how long, and be entertained by the absolutely _delightful_ wailing of my brother every night and day.

To add onto that, I could not do _anything_ in these first few months of life. I hadn't developed the ability to see yet, I remembered from my biology class that newborns are born without sight and will not be able to fully see until _three_ or _four_ months, and it made my days even blander than I'd thought possible. If I had any time to myself in my secluded crib, then I would just lie there and stare sightlessly at the ceiling, even tracing invisible patterns with my wobbly, uncoordinated arms.

The simple monotony of an infant's life was enough to drive any sane adult to the brink of madness.

I'm pretty sure that being aware of how repetitive simple tasks like eating and sleeping can be trumps over mid-life crises any day.

It was after three _whole_ months that I had finally begun to see the world around me, albeit I was nearsighted at this point, but I could see nonetheless.

I couldn't help but examine the new home I had been living in, to take in the appearances of my parents after waiting so _long_ to be able to do something other than just shit myself and cry.

The first person saw in this life was my father. It had only been a few days that my sight had really started to accelerate, finally turning the unrecognizable blobs that were my parents into reasonable images of people.

The day I first _really_ saw my father was a memory to be cherished

I didn't know it the day before, but my father was going to have the day off of his work, what he made a living on was still completely unknown to me, and would have the whole day with Izuku and me while Oka-san was out. What she would be out doing, I don't know. What I did know was that the next would be the _best_ because Otou-san was _way_ more lenient with my brother and I and he always did something fun with us while Oka-san wasn't looking.

Whether it was doing something risky like piggyback rides or my favorite, when he would hold me or my brother up in the air and would run around the room while making _hilarious_ airplane sounds, it was always a blast to spend time with him.

I knew that this day would start off _perfectly._

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I was extraordinarily cranky when I woke up the next day.

Otou-san made the _huge_ mistake of slamming the door that led to my brother's and my infirmary. The only reason my brother and I even shared a room was because our little apartment didn't have all that much space and required that we share a room. I didn't mind it much, but it really got to me on those nights that Izuku just wouldn't _shut up._

As soon as the door came crashing to a close, Izuku cried in surprise and set off a chain reaction in my primitive, instinctually driven infant-brain that made me start to wail as well. As funny as it was to see Otou-san start to panic over our distress, I felt sorry for him because he didn't deserve this stress over such a little thing as closing the door a little too loudly.

It must have seemed like I was screaming the most over the loud and sudden noise because Otou-san had come to coax me into silence first.

 **"Shizuka,"** he repeated in his deep, rumbly voice. He picked me up in his arms and rocked me in his arms, not going too fast because he knew that I had a profound hatred for being bounced. As my bawls subsided into quiet whines, I opened my eyes and was surprised to find my vision working _way_ better than it usually does.

For the first time in this life, I could finally _see._

My mind soaked up my father's appearance like a sponge. To my own surprise, he was remarkably plain in appearance. He had jet black hair and eyes, a rather odd color for eyes in my opinion. His face was dotted with freckles that were a little out of place in a fully grown man's body. The only thing that really stood out was his hair. Oh GOD, his hair.

It was practically an explosion of jagged locks that flew pretty much _everywhere_. It was untamed and oddly captivating to look at.

I _so_ wanted to pet it.

"Gah," I gurgled as I reached out with my feeble arms to touch the eye-catching spikes of unruly hair. Otou-san did not stop me as I patted his hair, even when I had yanked a strand out by accident.

I was fully infatuated with his out of control mane, each wild curl managing to be much softer than I had expected. My little whimpers from earlier subsided and were replaced with gleeful giggles as I continued to twist and twirl his hair around. The strands seemed to be easily stirred and that allowed for a lot of styling to be done.

By the time Otou-san thought it well to put me back in my crib, the hair on the left side of his head was pointing towards the ground and was matted against his skull. He frowned for a minute and ruffled his hair to get it back to its original style and moved out of my sight to ease Izuku's unholy reaction to the door.

Since infants do not develop depth perception until they are much, much older, I had to lose sight of my dear father for the seemingly eternal ten minutes that he had to spend trying to get my brother to calm down. I knew that my brother would be an _extreme_ crybaby in the future, he would probably carry this behavior well into his childhood.

In a few years time, I would probably be the one comforting him and alleviating his sorrows from whatever startles him enough to get him going. I did not care though. I had a brother and I was going to go to hell and back for him if it meant keeping him by my side. I... I would have done the same for my parents too if I were still living my old life.

It was understood between the two of us that our bond was strong. We had been brought into this world together and we would be together for a long time. I didn't mind.

I wanted this experience, to see what it would really be like to have a sibling that was willing to give life and limb for you.

Finally, Otou-san had calmed down Izuku and was in a position to relax from this small nightmare. If he thought this was bad, I wonder how he'd react to what the future held.

There would definitely be more to fuss about than just two babies crying.

 **"Anata wa dochira mo kōfun shite imasu ka?"** he asked, a glint of excitement shining in his eyes as he questioned us. There were a few times where I wondered why Otou-san and Oka-san bothered trying to speak to the two of us. Regardless of the fact that I'm basically an English-speaking teenager in an infant's body, a normal child at this stage would be unable to comprehend _any_ sort of speech. I mean, I'm sure Izuku wasn't understanding this shit either.

Otou-san rushed out of the room to put his coat on, as well as to prepare other necessities to take two three-month-old twins out of the house for the first time since we were booted out of the hospital. By the time he came back into the room, he had on a light windbreaker on as well as a dark green scarf wrapped around his previously bare neck.

He first came to my crib and lifted me out of the tall child-prison, which was basically what it was, and placed me in a stroller. Apparently, my parents must have bought a double-stroller during the few weeks of my existence. Perhaps for an occasion like this.

Otou-san went back to our little infirmary to bring Izuku over and plopped him right next to me in the stroller. We were both buckled in with those tiny seat belts that came with the device and were covered in thin woolen blankets. I looked over at my counterpart sibling and watched as he dragged his hand around on the soft fabric of the blankets.

He seemed to notice that he had my attention and burbled for me to look at him. I complied.

 _Big mistake._

His hand went straight into my face, the palm of his tiny fist pressing against my lips. I could have reacted the way that my body wanted me to and cried, but I did not. Instead, I blew a raspberry right into his sweaty hand and sent him into a laughing fit. I guess my tongue must have tickled or something.

Izuku looked just like our father, inheriting the absolutely wild hair and some of the coloring as well. Instead of having completely jet black hair and eyes, Izuku had an odd combination of black and _green_ of all colors in his hair and a deep-hued green highlighting his eyes.

He continued to laugh his sweet baby laugh and squeal with giddiness. His toothless gums shook as he tried to recover from the minor tickling that I must have given him.

In the midst of his uncontrollable chuckling, he stuck out his hand again and reached for me. I submitted to his baby cuteness and stuck my chubby hand into his. He squeezed, and I squeezed in return. It seemed like we had a dynamic going on and it was kind of charming in its simplicity.

 **"Totemo airashī..."** our father mumbled fondly, looking at the two of us with a loving expression. His lips were curled at the ends, his eyes embracing the purity of our little friendship. A tiny voice in the back of my head whispered to me, shattering a bit of my belief in this new family, this new friendship.

 _If only he knew, he wouldn't think the same thing._

I knew in the depths of my heart that this was true. There was no purity, I was already corrupted. Otou-san didn't notice it, but I wasn't the little snowflake he made me out to be.

I would never be that little snowflake. Simply because I had never been. What a curse it is to be born _tainted._

 **"Sate,"** my father drew back my attention with the sharp word. He slung a messenger bag over his shoulder and grabbed onto our little baby carriage and said, **"Watashitachiha kōen ni iku!"**

Hah, I still had no idea where the hell we were going or what he was saying. Otou-san slid the stroller through the door and into the apartment building's hallway. Guess I was in for a ride.

 _Little did I know that this trip would reveal the lie I was living in._

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 _ **Translations:**_

 **"Anata wa dochira mo kōfun shite imasu ka?" = "You both excited?"**

 **"Shizuka" = "Quiet"**

 **"Totemo airashī..." = "So cute..."**

 **"Sate, watashitachiha kōen ni iku!" = "Alright, we're off to the park!"**


	4. Enkindle

**Warnings: Angery Katsuki-Child, baby-fights, fire (lots of fire), and a really naive Otou-san.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even the air I breathe.**

 **Edited as of 3-8-18**

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 **Text Key:**

 _Italics_ = Emphasized thoughts/text/dialogue

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We were out the door and moving.

Izuku was clinging onto me for dear life as Otou-san pushed us down the stairs to the apartment building's ground floor, each step throwing the stroller into the air only for it to come crashing down onto the next step.

I did not mind the crying, the abominable noise of the stroller rocketing down the stairs, or the sense of nauseousness that these horrid stairs were giving me. What I _did_ mind was Izuku choking me to death with his little baby arms.

Goddamn, those things could _squeeze_ someone to death.

Finally, and thankfully, Otou-san finally ended our rambunctious ride down the stairs and pushed us along on _flat_ ground. Izuku's fearful cry for help finally stopped and I was appreciative of the fact that I wouldn't suffocate to death. It would have been a shame if I were to _die_ again and so soon.

I still had no idea where we were going and how long it would take to get there. I could only assume it would be awhile before I could get my bearings.

Anywhere but the home was fine with me. I was starting to get stir-crazy from the last three months of repetitive schedules.

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Apparently, we were at the park.

I was not told that because I still don't have a clue about understanding Japanese, and I definitely couldn't see it for myself, I still have a good few months before my eyesight develops that well. The only reason I could tell it was a park was due to the fact that Otou-san kept handing my brother and I amber, red, and yellow leaves every few seconds and there just had to be _tons_ of trees around for that to happen and it _had_ to be Autumn. Deductive reasoning has been my only friend so far in this life.

Otou-san just strolled us around the park for a good bit. It wasn't interesting or relaxing in any way. Though, I did come to the conclusion that strollers were horrible, for a very valid reason.

That was because the only view I had of the world was crotches. Only crotches. It was to the point where I thought that the designers of this stroller must have been high or some shit.

You don't think of this stuff in your _right_ mind. Especially ignoring the fact that only crotches were visible to the riders.

Unsurprisingly, Izuku wasn't bothered by the _wonderful_ view from the stroller. I didn't expect him to be disturbed, he didn't know that it was wrong to stare at peoples crotches.

I wish that I had that type of innocence right now. It would _really_ help me forget _this_.

Otou-san finally stopped strolling us around and settled down on a grassy hill, plopping both me and my brother underneath a tree and on top of a blanket decorated with rubber duckies. It was adorable, to say the least.

My brother and I had the ability to sit up, which was actually difficult for an infant to do mainly because of the tremendous weight we feel from our bodies, so we just rested on the blanket while Otou-san actually _ran away_ from us. Izuku looked as if he were about to burst into spontaneous tears and I couldn't do anything about it. If he was going to stay _that_ sensitive to everyday occurrences, then I would have to back out of his problems to keep him independent. I know I said I wanted a sibling that could I could comfort, but the last thing I wanted was a brother who clung to me all day and every day. _That_ would be excessive.

It seemed like our father was just going to get something from the stroller he left at the base of the little hill. He wasn't going to abandon us. It was simple.

Too bad Izuku couldn't take it. He was practically attached to my arm, holding in hopes of _me_ not abandoning him.

Like what the hell could _I_ do to get away? I didn't think I could scoot to freedom.

My legs were too jelly-like for that.

Otou-san came jogging back, a huge duffle bag slung over his shoulder as well as his significantly smaller messenger bag he had been carrying the whole trip. Izuku caught sight of him and finally let go of my arm, again, and burbled for our father's attention. While Izuku waved his arms around for Otou-san, I noticed the blurry globs moving behind our father's figure. As the globs moved closer and closer to my field of vision, I realized _why_ we went to the park.

This was a _fucking_ play-date. _Kill me._

Two adults were carrying a small child, not much older than my brother and I, and rapidly approaching our little haven on the hill. I never so badly in my life wanted to assault a family member more than now. I didn't mind the park visit, that was bearable, but spending time with an _unknown_ infant was torture. _Why Otou-san? Why?_

It was too bad I couldn't complain about this. By the time I can complain, this would already have been a forgotten memory.

Soon enough, the fellow infant was plopped onto our little ducky blanket and given a plush dinosaur. He must have been cranky because as soon as he received the small toy, he slapped the hand that gave him the gift. Oh joy, I was going to _play_ with this brat for a while.

Hopefully, we would leave before an hour passes.

Our playdate finally put his attention towards us. He stared at us for a good few minutes, just examining my brother and I. I felt extremely uncomfortable with this child staring into my soul, but my brother comparatively was eating it up. Izuku had squiggled towards our playmate and started patting his shoulder. All the foreign child did was give Izuku a side-stare with his glaring eyes, sending all his hatred towards my innocent and unknowing brother.

I finally built up the guts to look him in the eyes and studied his appearance. The boy had ash blonde hair and unsettling red eyes. For some reason, he reminded me of one of those Ishvalans from Full Metal Alchemist but without the tanned skin. Those red eyes were staring into mine and they scared me.

A lot.

He finally got sick of my brother's unnatural clinginess and pushed him off with one shove of his chubby arm. Izuku seemed almost as startled by this boy's aggression as I was. This kid was violent and we weren't even more than a year old yet. I caught onto the idea that he probably acted like this all the time.

He was likely never in a good mood and that must drive his parents insane.

In fear of possible conflict, I began to look at my father in hopes of him helping my brother and me out of this situation. Otou-san was having a leisurely conversation with the two parents of the red-eyed monstrosity and didn't seem to notice my staring. I finally understood what the duffle bag he brought up was for; they were having a picnic. A freaking picnic. Otou-san and the two parents were just eating sandwiches while I was suffering in the pits of hell.

Everything must have seemed about right to Otou-san. It was all _dandy_.

Izuku's primitive mind finally realized what the blonde-haired boy had done to him and he broke into tears. Of course, _that_ caught my father's attention.

Otou-san came rushing in frantically, stooping over to reach our level and swooping Izuku into his arms. Otou-san lulled his cries away into soft whimpers and finally managed to dull down the situation. My father continued to soothe my brother and gave a quick glance at our _playdate_ and me.

I took this as my chance to get out of this mess and used all the hand-eye coordination I had to point a finger at the blonde boy's direction. _The_ playdate looked surprised at my accusation, probably feigned to seem innocent, and just looked at Otou-san with wide eyes. Otou-san was just staring at me with his eyebrow raised.

Not that I could blame him, it was kind of weird to see a three-month-old that knew how to blame someone, let alone point at someone. Most children my age would have been throwing a tantrum or crying insanely.

Otou-san seemed to take my testimony as the truth and plopped Izuku back on our ducky blanket, walked off to the two adults still eating in the distance, and started discussing something. My hearing wasn't exactly the best either, so I couldn't hear the details of their conversation. It wouldn't even matter if I could hear them; I still didn't understand Japanese. I suppose our playmate was deemed guilty for causing my brother's fit because his mother, who looked scarily like her son, came marching over with an intimidating sense of superiority and started scolding the blonde.

I didn't know what she was saying to her son, but she was shouting so angrily that my instincts were practically screaming at me to start crying. What left me astounded was that the boy took it like a champ and stared his mother down throughout the whole thing. When she was done reprimanding him, he continued to stare at her. I suppose it was a show of power or endurance because she just sighed in response.

"Anata wa nani ka Katsuki-desu," the woman sighed, rubbing her temples vigorously. She stood up and walked away with her hands in the air. She seemed done with her son's attitude and I could definitely understand why.

So this kid's name was Katsuki. Thank the lord that Katsuki's mother mentioned his name, I didn't want to keep referring to him as "blonde boy".

Still, ... why was that so familiar? I feel like I have heard that somewhere... but where? For some reason, his attitude reminded me of someone named Katsuki but I couldn't recall who he was. I didn't have any Japanese friends or family in my old life, but this still reminded me of something from my past.

I sat on the blanket and continued to sift through my memories to figure out why that name was so familiar. Unfortunately, Izuku wasn't having any of my silence or my desire for _some_ alone time. He stealthily shuffled towards me from behind, sat up, and gave me a bear hug from behind.

Izuku _didn't_ seem to understand how heavy infant bodies actually were and ended up sending the both of us toppling over. I was being sandwiched between the ducky blanket, which was still adorable even with my squishy face smashed into it, and Izuku who was flailing around, trying to get back onto his rump. Alternatively, Katsuki was staring at the two of us with a sly, toothless grin on his face.

 _Bastard,_ he was loving this.

Once again, our amazing Otou-san came to the rescue. He pulled a frantic Izuku off of my back and sat me up straight. He then made a short side comment, probably something about my unwillingness to cry, and sat down cross-legged-style on the ducky blanket. I guess he didn't trust us to be here by ourselves and frankly, I didn't blame him for thinking that.

He leaned over the edge of the blanket after seating himself and grabbed a brown, crusty, and dry leaf. I had no idea what he was doing, but I was intrigued.

My eyes were glued to his hands as he started to crush the leaf up in his hands, mumbling to himself with every crunch of the shriveled up leaf.

"Anata ga issho ni iku tsumori ga nainara..." he announced after finishing up with the leaf, "Watashi wa shō de minasan o tanoshima semasu!"

I still didn't have a clue about what he was talking about, but I continued to play along as if I understood him. Nonetheless, he did seem pretty excited about what he was saying.

I squiggled a little closer towards him and masterfully positioned myself on my butt. I looked behind me to see Izuku picking grass from the ground at the edges of the blanket, marveling at its green color, and Katsuki slamming his dinosaur plushy into the duck blanket. Delicate I see.

He was even making _airplane_ _noises_ each time he made the dinosaur dive-bomb into the blanket.

Otou-san whistled for their attention and got Izuku to look up at him. My twin gently placed the blade of grass he was examining down onto the ground and waddled over to where I was sitting. He plopped himself right next to me and started to grab the ducks on the blanket.

Katsuki was still making his toy dinosaur kamikaze into the ducks. Otou-san sighed and decided to ignore the rebellious child. I suppose that if Katsuki's mother couldn't change his attitude, then Otou-san definitely couldn't do a thing about him.

With his three-month-old audience, he started to rub the dead leaf flakes in his hands. Every few rubs, he would take a look inside as if he were inspecting their quality or something. He seemed satisfied with the leaf crumblings after about ten inspections and held them out for my brother and me to see.

They were just plain old dead leaves.

I looked up at him, begging for some type of explanation that didn't involve words. His only response was a gesture. He held a finger up in the air, almost as if he were saying "wait for it...", so I shifted my gaze back to the leaves. What would he do now?

He started to blow into the leaves, softly at first and then increasing his intensity over mere seconds. He kept breathing onto the crumbled up leaves, starting to stir up the little pile that sat in his hands.

What happened next defied all science and reality that I had come to know in my previous life.

My father breathed _fire_ onto the leaves.

Flames sputtered out of his mouth and lit the dry flakes. The leaves began to ignite and scatter all over the place.

It was oddly beautiful. The burning specks floated in the air, giving off a light orange glow.

I sat staring at the miracle that had just occurred in front of me while Izuku was swatting at the flying ashes.

I zoned out from there on. I couldn't think of anything else except what I had just witnessed.

It kept repeating in my mind like a broken record, it was all I could see.

My father had just broken every scientific rule out there with that 'trick'.

So who the _hell_ was my father?

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 **Translations:**

 **"Anata wa nani ka Katsukidesu" = "You're something Katsuki"**

 **"Anata ga issho ni iku tsumori ga nainara..." = "If you're not going to get along..."**

 **"Watashi wa shō de minasan o tanoshima semasu!" = "Then I'll entertain you all with a show!"**


	5. Vagrant

**Warnings: Fish slop, existential crisis (again), f re c k ing cursing, and #tiredizuku.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing but meh character.**

 **Edited as of 3-8-18**

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 **Text Key:**

Italics = Emphasized thoughts/text/dialogue

 **"Dialogue"** = Japanese Dialogue (End of Chapter for Translations)

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Something was wrong.

It wasn't outright obvious nor was it too difficult to find. It was something right under my nose, but always out of grasp when I seemed so close to figuring it out.

Ever since that torturous playdate, I couldn't get the image of my father breathing fire out of my head. It stuck with me.

It was my first obscure hint that led me to believe something was just wrong with this life.

Of course, I had come to accept the fact that my existence by itself was already unnatural. I could even be considered a devil of sorts by some religions. I was wrong and I had come to terms with this harsh reality. What I had not expected, however, was for the world I had been born in to be completely different from mine.

It became noticeable to me. It was basically everywhere.

When Oka-san would leave Izuku and me alone to play, I noticed how advanced the technology in our apartment was. While our mother was off doing her work, I was forced to sit down and absorb my surroundings. It was only natural that I would begin to observe the differences between the technology of my decade and the technology here.

The TV was way more precocious than it had been in my lifetime. It was almost holographic, a technology that hadn't even been attempted the year I died. While Izuku was being pacified and entertained by the kids shows playing on the marvelous device, I was being baffled at the mere sight of this invention.

I caught onto an idea. A simple theory.

I began to believe I had been reincarnated maybe a century or more after my original life. The quality and level of technology definitely supported my theory.

The technology seemed too advanced, even the goddamn camera that Oka-san had used to take our baby pictures with was about the quality of a professional photographer's camera in the form of a small digital camera. It was almost surreal.

Another thing that added to my theory was the sense of style. Of course, I knew that the Japanese probably dressed differently than Americans, a given, but I was sure that they didn't dress this differently. The fashion was too futuristic compared to my lifetime, even for Japan.

That, and the hairstyles that everyone seemed to have. Otou-san had a completely out-of-control mane while Oka-san had green hair. It seemed natural too.

The one thing that just refused to comply with my hypothesis was the stunt that Otou-san pulled. I just couldn't explain it. No matter how I looked at it, it was just plain impossible for the human body to produce flames. Maybe he had a device to create flames, like a plastic lighter of sorts, implanted in his body but even then, the human body couldn't withstand the raw heat of flames inside it for long periods of time, barely more than a minute.

The only thing I could compare Otou-san's trick to was the common 'fire-breathers' that performed at hotels and talent shows in my previous life. Even then, it was all a gimmick. They had oil in their mouths which they would use to blow onto the fire. The flames were never actually in their mouths.

I knew for a fact that my father blew out the flames. There was simply no doubt in my mind about it.

Unfortunately, my theorizing did seem to alarm my parents. Ever since that playdate, I'd started to become distant from my family and even more quiet than I was usually. Even Izuku, who was constantly doing things to get my attention, wasn't able to stir me from my pondering state. I suppose my parents just assumed I was going through a 'phase' or maybe that I was just going to be a quiet child. Even though they had thought something was wrong with me, they seemed to accept the fact that I would be solemn for the time being. There was always an underlying sense of concern for my wellbeing.

I came to be appreciative of the fact that my new family appreciated me for who I was, even if I were only 3 months old. I found solace in the idea that they would be supportive of my already introverted personality. Although, this is a new life, so why not have a fresh start as well? I've already changed physically, so there was no harm in trying to change the way I act around others as well. I figure there might as well be more people who share interests with me in this new life than in my previous one.

It wasn't my fault that everyone I knew in my previous life wasn't a huge weirdo.

Nonetheless, I made a small vow to myself to start acting in a more socially acceptable manner. That includes trying not to be a smart-ass all the time.

It was a few weeks after that horrendous playdate that I grew back into my normal demeanor, which wasn't all that different in retrospective. Oka-san and Otou-san acted as if nothing had ever happened. I knew they were relieved this was only temporary. I wished that I hadn't concerned them so much.

Infants that become silent or quieter than they normally act are usually mentally ill or will become unhealthy in that department. In short, I probably gave the two of them a near heart attack over the idea that I may have had autism or some similar handicap. Even then, they rode through the whole experience like it had never happened and finally adjusted to my reverted personality once the 'phase' was over.

I'm sure they counted their blessings after that short-period of paranoia. The weeks continued to roll by as I was consistently tortured with the life of a small infant. My days were rather uninteresting and filled with boring 'tasks' that I had to live up to so as to seem like a decently normal infant.

It was about the time that I was five months old that everything began to become fascinating again. My little legs could scoot me farther than ever before and I could wander around the apartment for a good twenty minutes before I got tired and needed to take a nap.

Great achievements were being made.

Izuku never got tired of my company and followed along on these crusades around the nursery, living room, and the hazardous kitchen that Oka-san was always trying to keep us away from.

It was during this time of exploration and wonder that I realized what was wrong and unfortunately, it would set me up for a future of disaster and self-doubt.

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Have you ever just woke up and started to stare at your ceiling?

That's what I used to do. It was what I was doing right now.

I had woken up a little too early in the morning and decided to just aimlessly stare at the ceiling. I didn't want to make a fuss; that would cause way too much trouble for my parents. I'd rather give them a few extra hours of sleep they would need to function for the rest of the day.

It was Day 167 (Yes, I have been counting) and I'd been doing this for the last month or so. Time seemed so slow compared to when I was a teenager.

In my previous life, a day would have seemed way too short. In this life, every minute seems like a decade in time. It was odd how your age of all things changed your perception of time, constantly elongating and shortening every second. It was scary how time passed.

I continued to lie down on my back, taking in every detail of the ceiling's appearance. Although I've looked at this ceiling for over twenty days, it was always refreshing to look at it. I'd think about plenty of things while I examined it.

I was about to turn on my side and go back to sleep when all of a sudden, the lights came on at full intensity. I winced at the sudden brightness, the ceiling that I had just been staring at abruptly casting rays of light upon my fragile eyes. Of course, my go-to reaction was crying.

A feminine sigh sounded through the room, usually routine with every time one of my parents had to wake Izuku and me up. It seemed like Oka-san had the day with us.

I felt myself elevate from my cradle as I was blinded by the sudden flash of brightness. Oka-san's soft lulling put me to silence and after a few minutes, I was staring at her with tired eyes. She had dark, dark bags under her eyes. It must have been early, maybe too early to wake us up.

She carried me to the other side of the room and plopped me into our playpen. It was filled with an excessive amount of toys that usually kept Izuku entertained for hours. As for me, I enjoyed playing with blocks. There was just something about them that was so cool. My inner child was released every time I had a chance to play with blocks.

As soon as I was on solid ground again, I scuttled on over to the set of blocks in the corner of the playpen and began to arrange them into a castle. Oka-san moved over to Izuku's side of the room and gently shook him awake. He didn't react as harshly as I did, only feebly rubbing his eyes as Oka-san lifted him out of his crib and lowered him next to me.

I took a second to burble an incomprehensible "Good morning" to him before returning to my quest to build the best block castle ever. He wearily glanced at me and then decided to lay down again. Poor thing, it must have been too early for him to be awake.

 **"Watashi wa sugu ni modotte kimasu, chīsana mono,"** Oka-san, the giant human looming over our playpen, said exhaustedly.

She then walked out of the room, leaving Izuku and me to our own devices. Izuku just closed his eyes and decided to take a nap on the floor. I continued to build my block castle.

It was after about fifteen minutes that Oka-san came back into the room and scooped both Izuku and me up into her arms. Izuku squirmed against her brace, desperately whining for more sleep. Conversely, I was quietly sitting on her arm. Today seemed different.

I do not like different.

Before I knew it, I was stationed on a high chair along with Izuku inside our apartment's kitchen. I didn't even know we had a high chair before now.

Oka-san walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed two small plastic bowls of what seemed to be mush.

Oh, I was going to be fed. Hooray.

I had neglected to mention the fact that I had started teething. To put it simply, it was not a fun experience. I felt the urge to chew on my hands every few minutes, only submitting to that urge on occasion. Izuku wasn't as temperate as I was. He would stick his mouth on any object in the room, including arms and legs.

He was basically a ravenous monster in the form of a small infant.

Back to reality, the plastic dishes were plopped in front of Izuku and I. We both got closer looks at the supposed food inside the container and I instantly accepted my fate. Whatever was in that bowl, it couldn't be that bad, right?

Since neither my brother or I had the ability to successfully use utensils, Oka-san took up the task of hand-feeding the both of us.

She first dug up a spoonful of mashed up food from the plastic bowl and raised it towards my face. I didn't resist because I wasn't up for giving her a bad time, and I was hungry as fuck, so she shoved the spoon into my mouth.

I instantly regretted letting her feed me.

She fed me fish. Fucking fish.

I hated fish with my soul. It had that taste, you know the one, that made you want to hurl your insides out of your body.

Almost as fast as the food went in, it came out of my mouth in a disgusting dribble.

 **"Ichido!"** Oka-san panicked as she rushed to get a napkin to wipe my face, **"Sakana wa anata no tame ni yoidesu!"**

I paid no heed to whatever she just said. She fed me fish. As long as there was fish involved, I was unwilling to comply.

I turned my head in a rebellion of her demands and complained using my nonsensical form of speech. Oka-san just sighed in response.

She then turned to my brother.

 **"Anata wa dōdesu ka, Izuku?"** Oka-san raised a spoonful of fish-mush from his plastic baby-bowl, **"Sore wa oishī to wa omowanai?"**

Oka-san shoved the mushed up fish into my brother's face. His immediate response was an entire face scrunch.

I guess I set a bad example for him.

He did the same exact thing as I did, which was pretty gross after seeing it happen to someone else, and was dramatic enough to slap the spoon out of Oka-san's hand.

He stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry as Oka-san wiped his face down. For about the fifth time today, she sighed.

I immediately felt guilty for my brother's misbehavior. I would have to do a better job at setting a good example in the future.

Just as I thought Oka-san was going to bend down and get the baby-proof spoon from the floor, she just stuck out her palm at the dropped utensil.

Almost like magic, the spoon came flying into her hand.

I looked at her as if she suddenly turned into a pineapple. My gaze wandered to the spoon and back to her face.

She placed the dirty spoon on the kitchen counter and moved to get a new spoon.

I looked once more at the spoon.

Something was definitely wrong.

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 **Translations:**

 **"Watashi wa sugu ni modotte kimasu, chīsana mono" = "I'll be right back, little ones"**

 **"Sakana wa anata no tame ni yoidesu!" = "Fish is good for you!"**

 **"Anata wa dōdesu ka, Izuku?" = "What about you, Izuku?"**

 **"Sore wa oishī to wa omowanai?" = "Don't you think it's yummy?"**


	6. Impending

**Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue. I don't own Boku no Hero Academia, and neither do you.**

 **Well... unless you're** **Kōhei Horikoshi. Then you definitely own it.**

 **Warnings: Existential crisis, divine intervention (finally), stages of grief finally over with, baby fight (p.2), nose boops, and bath time (oh no)**

 **Edited as of 3-8-18**

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 **Text Key:**

 _Italics_ = Emphasized thoughts/text/dialogue

 **"Dialogue"** = Japanese dialogue (For organizational purposes)

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About twenty whole minutes had passed since our breakfast and I was still traumatized from Oka-san's "spoon miracle". Any sane person would have ran away screaming at the sight of that.

Unfortunately for me, I was no longer sane (Honestly, what did you expect? I've been stuck living as a fucking infant for _five months._ ) nor did I have the ability to run away. Curse my underdeveloped jelly-legs...

It was after bringing Izuku and I new spoons that she decided to switch from the fish purée to a less disgusting food, mushed up peas. It wasn't much better, but it definitely ranked higher than that fish slop on my 'the best foods in existence' list.

Not like it mattered what it tasted like, I was too shaken by Oka-san's witchcraft to even think about food. She ended up force feeding me the pea concoction while I basically stared into the void. Obviously, Izuku didn't know that normal people weren't able to magically levitate spoons to them, so he ate happily, unaware of the absolute horror that I was experiencing. Ignorance is bliss, as they always say.

Oka-san then hoisted us out of our high chairs after Izuku finished eating (and I finished having pea-mush forcibly shoved down my throat) and brought us to the family room. She plopped up into our child pen and turned on the TV. After putting it on the children's channel, she promptly walked away and started doing her own business.

Great parenting, Oka-san. We can all tell that you made a _great_ effort.

Izuku was immediately entranced by the figures on the screen while I tried to escape our child prison. As far as I was concerned, I was unwilling to let Oka-san off the hook for this incident. Language barrier or not, I needed answers.

The pen was about three feet in height, not too large for me to escape from, but it would take all my hand-eye coordination and energy to climb over it. Actually, on second thought, it might just be easier to make the whole structure topple over. It could work, especially since it was made of plastic and wasn't attached to the floor.

I just needed Izuku to play along for it to work.

I masterfully squiggled towards my brother and started shaking him vigorously with my chubby arms. Sheesh, it seemed like I was kind of fat thinking about it right now. Hopefully, it'll burn off when I'm older...

Izuku's brain finally phased back into reality as he recovered from the enticing call of the television. He finally turned around to face me and looked at me with a hint of disdain. Damn, whatever was on TV must have really been good. Too bad I had too many brain cells to enjoy that stuff.

It took me a few seconds to realize that I had absolutely no means to communicate with him other than physical actions. _Fuck_.

I tried to point to the wall of the rectangular pen and make a pushing motion, but Izuku didn't understand what I meant and turned back to watch the TV through the gridded wall of the child pen.

I just sighed in response and then attempted to topple over the pen with brute force. Obviously, a small five-month-old child did not have the physical capability to overturn a three-foot-tall structure on their own, but I continued to do so against my better judgment. After making more fruitless efforts, I just decided to scoot to the middle of the pen and lay down.

Maybe after some rest, I could convince Izuku to play along with my plans. My small body was at its rope's end, so I wound up falling asleep.

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It was dark, too dark.

I found myself standing in what seemed to be a pitch black void. I reached forward to feel for a solid object and was met with surprise.

First off, I could see my hand clearly even though the room seemed too dark to see in. Second, this was my hand. Not my small baby hand, but my _old_ hand from my previous life.

I was in my old body.

Was this... a dream? This felt too _convenient_ to be my reality.

" _So,"_ an echoing voice boomed. The sound of the voice bounced off of the invisible walls.

I flinched at the sound of such a loud and ominous voice, but I swallowed my intense amount of fear and tried to respond to the omnipotent voice.

"So?" I questioned, finally able to use my voice for the first time in months. I bit back a cry for joy over the fact that I could speak again and kept my inquisitive face on. I wasn't going to let my happiness get the best of me.

" _You're dead,_ " the voice declared, sounding rather uninterested at the moment. After a short period of silence, the voice continued on, " _You understand why you're here, don't you?"  
_

I wanted so badly to slap the person who was talking. Why the hell would I know!? What did he expect? Did he want me to just instantly understand the meaning of my new life in an instant? Sorry bucko, that's not how the world works.

"Like hell I know," I said sharply, holding back the massive slew of curse words that I wanted to release on this guy.

The voice only chuckled in response, silently mocking my ignorance. The chortling continued for a few moments longer until the voice suddenly stopped.

" _Soon."_

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I woke up with a massive jolt, my nerves tingling and my heart racing from the absolute nightmare of a dream I had.

My eyes darted from side to side as I tried to calm my frayed nerves. I was heaving and my heart beat refused to settle down at the moment.

I closed my eyes and took deep breaths, trying to regulate my out-of-control organs. I felt shivers go down my spine, the tingling sensation starting to ebb away.

 _Soon._

The short word kept repeating itself in my mind, the nightmarish experience still leaving me in a sort of shock. After a few minutes of heavy breathing, I realized that Izuku was staring at me. He looked absolutely terrified at the sight of me.

 _Fuck_. I hope, I _really_ hope, that he wouldn't remember this. The last thing he needed was to be traumatized over _my_ brush with death. If anything, _I_ should be the one that's traumatized. I just had a goddamn _panic attack and meeting with the Grim Reaper_ for God's sake.

With a high-pitched baby groan, I'll never get used to having such a lofty voice, I hoisted myself back onto my buttocks and acted as if nothing had just happened. Maybe if I brush off what just happened, Izuku would stop thinking about it.

Maybe. Probably. Hopefully? Goddamnit, I'm just lying to myself now.

Welp, looks like I have to fix up the mistakes I had managed to make so early in my life.

I scuttled on over to Izuku's secluded corner of the child-pen and collapsed onto him. Yep, you heard me right.

I _collapsed_ onto him.

I then succeeded in pinning him to the ground in the sudden baby-wresting match that I had initiated. When he finally realized that we were grappling, his mood did a complete one-eighty and he started fighting back against my hold. Although, it was too late. I had gotten my hold earlier and Izuku couldn't think of a way out of it.

Hah, baby squabbles are the best. Especially when I'm the one winning.

Aaaand before I knew it, I was the one on the ground. While I was mentally gloating about my small victory, Izuku must have found a hole in my defenses and acted upon it. Sneaky that strategic brother of mine...

So there I was, laying down underneath my twin who had a toothy smile on his face and his chubby arms gripped around my own pair. Still being face to face, Izuku carefully maneuvered his right arm and sent it towards my face. Right about when I thought his palm would make collision with my small, delicate face, his finger landed right on my nose.

He poked my nose...

He just poked my goddamn nose... damn, he must have picked that up from Otou-san.

Otou-san had an _affinity_ for poking both of our noses with his index finger. It was basically routine in our household.

Izuku's laugh of victory brought me back to awareness once more, the gloating tone of his chortles becoming infectious. Soon enough, we were a pile of laughing five-month-old babies that didn't seem to have an off button.

My maturity had absolutely _nothing_ on childhood fun. In fact, I'm pretty sure the 'adult' in me died a little.

Heh, who needs that anyway?

The giggles faded away and were replaced with a calming silence. Izuku and I lay next to each other, only the hushed voices of the TV filling the room.

I liked this... it was nice. Nostalgic almost. I hope that it can stay this way, at least for a while.

This time, I reached out for Izuku's hand, all the tension from my supposed 'seizure' had fully melted away. He cordially gripped his own around my fingers, the connection giving me a bit of joy. It seems like we both liked this.

For the moment, it didn't matter that I wasn't supposed to be here. It didn't matter that I was old or young, Japanese or American. None of it mattered because I–

–I was _alive._ I was breathing and laughing, I was _enjoying_ life again.

I had everything anyone could ask for, and I wouldn't change a moment of it.

Not one moment.

 **"Oi!"** a female voice blurted out, snapping me out of my reverie. A small shift in my eyes and I realized that Oka-san had been spying on us from the doorway to our her and Otou-san's bedroom. She moved out into the hallway and put her hands on her hips, a cunning smile gracing her porcelain face, **"Ima wa itsudesuka?"**

Oh dear lord, I know that tone she's using. I don't like it, not one bit. I turned my head to the side and noticed that Izuku had the same look of disdain on his face. I guess he had recognized the tone too.

The tone she was using was none other than what I had deemed the "bath time rallying cry". Or "war cry". That worked too.

I started to inch away from Oka-san, my tiny body bumping into the edges of our fenced-in play area. Shit.

 **"Soreha,"** Oka-san started, putting an accent on the "h" as she dove towards our cornered bodies. She swooped both of us up in one scoop, ignoring the intense amount of struggling and wiggling we were doing. While we continued to whine and squirm, Oka-san declared quite cheekily, **"Basu taimu!"**

Well... damn.

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I felt as if my scalp were on fire. Oka-san had taken to giving us 'thorough' baths even though we didn't even get dirty during the day.

Of course, Oka-san's standards of clean were far, _far_ different from mine. Any normal person would consider _one_ shampoo, conditioning, and body wash enough.

Oka-san thought it was good to do that three times. And one more scrub to be safe.

Cause, _of course_ , you can never be _too_ careful about germs after you've already killed them a few thousand times over. Note the sarcasm there, just pointing it out.

At the moment, I was in the middle of having shampoo number two while Izuku was on the home-stretch, only having to do shampoo number three, a conditioning, and another full-body scrub-down. The decent amount of hair that I had growing on my head was suffering at the hands of Oka-san, her fingers mercilessly weaving in and out of the tangled mess of short, inky strands.

Suddenly, her fingers pulled against a large tangle of hair, the abrupt movement causing an intense amount of pain in my already distressed scalp. I whined weakly in response, the lack of communication coming back to frustrate me once more.

 **"Gomen'nasai, Ichido. Anata wa sono yōna yasei no kami o motte iru!"** Oka-san subsequently apologized and complained choppily, the words coming out in sharp syllables with each attempt at straightening my bird's nest of hair. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity and a half, Oka-san untangled my hair.

Once both of us were done being cleaned (excessively), Oka-san pulled us out of the bathtub and toweled us dry, being careful to keep both of our hair as straight as possible. If it wasn't obvious, Izuku and I _definitely_ inherited Otou-san's untamable hair. I didn't mind it, but it was rather unfortunate for our caretakers.

Finally free from the torturous bathroom, Oka-san dressed us up in onesies, which against my better judgment, I had grown to love. They were so damn comfortable.

And adorable.

Oka-san had decided to dress me in a ducky onesie, which seemed to be a reoccurring theme in our odd household, and Izuku in what seemed to be a onesie with the colors of the United States flag on it. Odd choice of style, but I decided to overlook it.

Since that bath took the daylights out of the both of us, and seemingly Oka-san too, we were carted off to our shared habitat. I didn't protest as I was lowered into my own crib, drowsiness overtaking me even though I had taken a nap only an hour earlier. My fragile body demanded that I rest, an I was forced to comply.

 **"Ima sugu yasumu,"** Oka-san whispered into my ear as she tucked me in, leaning farther in to give me a peck on the cheek. I just smiled fondly in response.

I was being sucked into the realm of dreams once more, my conscience beginning to fade. As I sunk deeper and deeper into my own mind, a faint voice spoke.

 _Soon._

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 ** _Translations:_**

 **"Oi" = "Hey"**

 **"Ima wa itsudesuka?" = "Do you know what time it is?"**

 **"Soreha" = "It's"**

 **"Basu taimu" = "Bathtime"**

 **"Gomen'nasai, Ichido. Anata wa sono yōna yasei no kami o motte iru!" = "Sorry, Ichido. You just have such wild hair!"**

 **"Ima sugu yasumu" = "Rest now"**


	7. Ad Infinitum

**Disclaimer: Haha, I own nothing. Except Ichido. She's my mind-child.**

 **Warnings: Divine intervention (not a surprise really), existentialism (part 352), sleeping, quirks?, and tired Izuku. I love writing tired Izuku.**

 **Edited as of 3-8-18**

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 **Text Key:**

 _Italics_ = Emphasized thoughts/text/dialogue

 **"Dialogue"** = Japanese dialogue (For organizational purposes)

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As soon as my eyes closed and my consciousness fade, I appeared in the black void that I had met only once before.

Immediately upon entering the purgatory-like area, I checked my hand. The fingers were long and calloused from years of cello and piano practice, familiar.

 _My old body._

The spirit, or whatever it was, had decided to forcefully drag me into its domain once more, not bothering to ease me into the feeling of being in a non-infant body.

Unlike the last visit to this place, I was completely serious about the matter at hand. Whatever this _thing_ was had been responsible for swiping my soul and implanting it into the body of a newborn. They were responsible for this new life, whether it be a blessing or a curse in their eyes.

The creature that summoned me seemed to notice my subtle sense of solemnity and began to speak as quickly as possible.

" _Hello little human,_ " the omnipotent voice whispered solemnly.

I didn't bother to grace the voice's greeting with a response, I simply waited for the voice to continue speaking.

" _I see you're taking this seriously now,"_ the voice continued, the bitterness in his tone beginning to rear its face. The voice paused for a moment, seemingly considering their next words. " _I suppose it is about time I introduce you to myself."_

Almost involuntarily, my eyebrow lifted upwards. I had a certain amount of doubt that the voice even had an identity, let alone a name for itself.

" _Yes, I suppose it is difficult to believe that I have a personality after meeting me for less than five minutes,"_ the voice muttered spitefully, an ounce of sarcasm mixed into the jumble of poisonous words.

It would be appropriate to say that my eyebrows practically floated off my forehead at this point. The voice has just read my _mind._

Not even my own brain was a safe place anymore. I then realized that I had to be _exceptionally_ careful with what I think in this place. Absolutely anything I can possibly conceive in thought could mean the abrupt end of my newfound life. I was treading on thin ice, not the position I was hoping I would have in this situation.

" _You've finally grasped the gravity of this situation,"_ the voice interrupted my inner panic-attack, the amusement completely leeched out from their speech. The voice paused once more, taking a moment to suck in a large yet silent breath. They finally boomed with speech, the voice becoming louder than before and surrounding my false body with vibration, " _Young mortal."_

They directly addressed me with the utmost seriousness. The tension in the void raised the hairs on my back, unshed tears beginning to form themselves in the backs of my eye sockets. I was never able to hold in tears, not in this body nor in my previous life. For the first time since death, I could truly say that I felt this emotion.

Pure, unadulterated _terror_ coursed through my veins.

" _I am the being that has seized your soul from a mangled corpse,"_ the being claimed, supporting the beliefs that I had begun to form around them. They were my savior.

And my tormentor.

I could only nod absently in response, the concentration of power and chaos still encompassing the entirety of the never-ending chasm I was trapped in. The pressure was suffocating, completely preventing me from even attempting to speak.

 _"I am Aeon, God of Time and Life itself."_

The voice, no, _God_ paused to let the information sink into my mind.

"A G-God?" I could barely stifle out. Although the divinity did not seem to have a physical figure, I found myself looking upwards into the inky colored sky anyways.

 _"Indeed, Young Mortal,"_ Aeon replied chastely, seemingly quickening up the pace of their speech. They spoke once more, " _Your body is going to gain consciousness soon. You may ask your questions now, but pay heed Mortal, this is the only time I am going to speak with you for the following years to come."_

"W-What? Why?!" I exclaimed, the paralyzing tension that had built up in my body spontaneously melting away.

" _Specify."_ Aeon ordered, their voice becoming severely impatient compared to the godlike rumbling that I had heard earlier, " _Do not waste your precious seconds."_

I swallowed the ball of hesitation that sat in my throat and nodded curtly. If this were truly the last time I was going to be able to speak with this being for _years_ , I must utilize every second I have left.

"What exactly are you?" I asked, hoping for a more elaborate definition of this God's identity.

" _I simply am."_ Aeon answered, having conviction about their answer.

I gave a slight cough to indicate that the answer wasn't exactly satisfactory. The God seemed to catch onto my thoughts and began to speak again:

" _I have existed since the beginning of time. You Mortals have worshipped me many times before. There are many religions that acknowledge my presence,"_ the God paused as if they were taking a moment to consider their words, perhaps to even recall something, " _The people known as the Greeks had worshipped me under the name of Chronos, one God among their multitude of divinities. The Christians refer to me as Lord or God, their one divinity. I have unintentionally influenced the creation of thousands of religions, some of which are still practiced to this day."_

"But–" I frowned. This God wasn't kind, not even remotely, if they were willing to have all these religions exist at one time. At the time of my death, religion became an excuse to start wars and kill masses. I voiced my thoughts, "Why won't you unite humanity under one religion? Wouldn't that prevent terrorism and religious wars from happening?"

Aeon seemed amused by my question if anything could be indicated the the laughs that were creepily similar to the last visit I had with the deity. The chuckles stopped abruptly.

 _"I do not care for your species, Young Mortal,"_ Aeon broke the news to me, seemingly interested in the responsibility that I had placed on them, " _Humanity is simply a placeholder for the dominant species of your world. In time, another will come to prevail. I have no role in this process other than progressing the steady march of time."_

Another question popped into my head immediately once they stated their opinion on humanity. If Aeon did not have any compassion nor antipathy for humanity, then why did they bother to give _me_ another chance at life.

The God seemed to acknowledge my thoughts, once more invading my mind space and answering my thoughts almost instantaneously.

" _You were wondering why you were chosen to be reincarnated, I see. This answer may disappoint you, but I did not choose you for any particular reason,"_ Aeon answered bluntly, delivering the message with open honesty, " _At the moment of my decision, you happened to be the human that died. It was just a matter of circumstance, Humans also call it 'luck'."_

Luck my ass. If anything, this would be considered _unlucky_. Aeon gave a grumble of disapproval towards my pessimistic thoughts.

"But why did you reincarnate someone in the first place?!" I complained. It was at this point that I lost my patience and demanded answers from the deity, completely ignoring the fact that my life was teetering between life and death.

 _"Boredom, Young Mortal,"_ Aeon said painfully, almost convincing me with the short explanation. I gestured for them to elaborate and Aeon complied, " _I have been in existence since the beginning of time. It is only natural that I become bored after all the eons I have lived through. I decided to play around with the order of things. Perhaps I hope for a different result, perhaps not. In the end, all I desire is an escape."_

I frowned in thought. I mean, it was quite understandable that any creature, whether mortal or not, would experience the torture of boredom, but to play with lives? Souls? It was simply unspeakable to me, especially since the life being played with was my very own. Yet, even though I disagree with the actions of this deity, I can't help but pity their position. Boredom is temporary for mortals, but it could easily be the infinite for immortals.

" _One last question, Mortal. Your body awaits the return of its soul,"_ Aeon interrupted my train of thought.

Alright, one last question. There was so much to ask about, it was nearly impossible to make a decision, let alone the one that would end my talk with the deity. Wait... wait, Aeon had said that they were "hoping for a different result". Did they know what was going to happen to me? What _was_ going to happen?

 _"That's two questions you know,"_ Aeon muttered irritatedly. The God actually _sighed_ and continued to speak, " _The answer is short for the second question, so I'll ignore the transgression. For the first question, yes and no. I know what can happen to you, but the decisions you make will influence the passage of time. Time is as a river, flowing in one direction but having the potential to split off from the main current. It is appropriate to say that you shape your own future with each minuscule step you take. There are multiple ends at which you could arrive, but the one that you are destined for is unclear to me."_

Aeon surprised me with a sudden series of chuckles. I was sure that they were insane, or on the verge of insanity at least.

" _I suppose that is why you have such entertainment value. You're unpredictable, and that serves as a wonderful source of entertainment,"_ the God sneered towards me, a few of the words warped by subsiding giggles. A quick clearing of the proverbial throat and Aeon continued, " _As for your second question, the answer is quite simple. You already know."_

What? I was definitely sure that I did _not_ know what was going to happen in the future. The God had just thrown me for a loop.

 _"No? I was sure that you have realized by now,"_ Aeon replied to my confused state of mind. The deity hummed quietly and began to speak once more, " _Or perhaps, you've already figured it out and you're denying it. Given the nature of humans, this is the more probable reason."_

"I still don't understand," I whined, exasperated by the God's vague words, "What do you mean I already know? Is there something I'm missing here?!"

 _"I shall bestow upon you a hint,"_ Aeon declared, seemingly annoyed by my confusion, " _You've seen this all before. The people you have been surrounded by since the beginning of this life are people who you have known in your own life. You did not know them as people, but as something else. You've seen this all before, Mortal."_

"But–" I started.

" _Ah, ah,"_ Aeon interrupted, " _That is all for now. There may be another time when I visit you, but I shall sit back and watch as this story unfolds. A bit of advice: time marches ad infinitum, but human life is sacred and short. Although this new life may seem like a curse, it could turn out to be a blessing in the future."_

And just like that, a white light shined and engulfed the dark void in which I stood.

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When I awoke, I was most definitely _not_ inside the crib that I had fallen asleep in.

Instead, I was met by overly-luminescent lights that blinded my feeble body's eyes. I felt a similar squirming next to me, so I knew my brother was in the same predicament as I was in. I gave a low whine to test the waters and see what was happening.

As predicted, Oka-san came to the rescue and lifted me out of the container that I was being held in. She held me at an angle that was convenient enough to let me regain my ability to see and the dancing colors from the blinding lights began to fade away.

Oka-san was rocking me lightly in her arms, running on the conceived notion that I was confused or upset for some reason. I just looked at her awkwardly, inwardly begging that she would stop trying to help and and just move onto my brother. These were the moments that I really wished I could just tell her what I needed.

She looked absolutely exhausted. It must have taken a lot of energy to sneak us out of the apartment without waking us up. She probably did it to keep us, more so my brother, from getting scared because of the car ride or train ride that it must have taken to get here, wherever the _fuck_ we were.

Oka-san, in her odd reverie of exhaustion, finally realized that I was completely calm and comfortable with the new environment. She awkwardly sat me down on the plastic seat next to her and lifted my brother out the baby carriage that I had just been sleeping in.

He was definitely more fussy than I was, squirming around in Oka-san's grip and reaching out to try and stop the horrible-quality lights from shining the obnoxiously bright rays into his eyes. I felt helpless in the situation and knew that there really wasn't anything I could do to alleviate the issue at hand.

I patiently waited for my counterpart to calm down and stop bustling around and decided to take a look around the room to quench the impending sense of boredom.

And oh boy, did I regret looking.

At first, I noticed the more normal details of the room I was in. First off, we were in a doctor's office. A pediatrician to be more specific.

We weren't in the examination room, but I knew from years upon years of experience that we were in the waiting room. The bane of mankind itself. The small room was filled with chairs placed next to the walls and a couple of bookshelves that were awkwardly placed in the center of the room. There was also one of those lame puzzle toys plopped right next to the bookshelves, seemingly out of place in such an organized and child-unfriendly waiting room.

I then noticed the _freakish_ aspect of the room: the people in it.

There were a few figures in that damn room that couldn't even be considered a part of the human species. For example, in the opposite corner of the waiting room, there was a family of people. With _raccoon heads for heads._ The youngest of the odd bunch was kicking his legs in the air and looking around the room with his beady eyes, his, err, _snout_ was wrinkled and they seemed to be sniffing around. _Weird._

Another kid who was sitting across from Oka-san's chair was also something to look at. The boy had a seemingly normal body shape, pitch-black hair, and brown eyes, but he had an _extreme_ underbite and his canines seemed to be jutting out from his lips. It was almost like he had _tusks_.

I kept staring between the two children in terror, and a somewhat sense of awe, simply absorbing the absurdity of their appearances. The raccoon boy didn't seem to notice, or he just didn't care about the fact that I was staring, but the boy with the underbite made eye-contact with me. I, caught utterly by surprise, stifled a small gasp and averted my gaze from him. My sweaty palms seemed to be more interesting to look at than ever.

The boy seemed a little sad about my refusal to look him in the eyes and became a little more guarded, probably self conscious about his appearance now that I'd singled him out for looking different. An overwhelming feeling of guilt filled my body. This felt wrong.

I felt wrong.

I looked back at the boy and kept looking at him until he noticed me again. His face screamed his emotions, mainly being caution and nervousness. This time I didn't look away, but tried to make him laugh instead.

After all, laughter is the best medicine.

I pulled a few faces, my favorite being the one where I squished my face together and rub it around vigorously, and managed to get the kid to chuckle a little bit. I gave him a thumbs up and he returned the gesture, beaming about the fact that he made amends with me, a random infant.

Oka-san seemed to be watching the whole exchange and turned to face me with a raised eyebrow. Izuku was nestled into the crook between her neck and shoulders and seemed to be taking _another_ nap.

 **"Ichido atarashī tomodachi o tsukurimashita ka?"** She questioned, eyebrow still raised.

I merely shrugged in response. I'd heard my name in there, but I really didn't understand the question being asked.

Oka-san seemed even more confused than before, and I instantly realized that I shouldn't have made the gesture.

Showing off my intelligence was not a good thing to do here, especially since a 5-month-old should not know the meaning behind a shrug. The fact that I'd just used a shrug in a proper manner and in an appropriate situation was ticking off alarms for the adults.

I needed more self-control. To be wary of letting things like _this_ slip by.

 **"Watashi wa himashi ga anata ni kore o oshieta 500-en o kakemashita,"** she laughed. I just stared.

I heard the number 500, Otou-san's first name, which was absolutely rare to hear, and 'en' which was a rough translation for 'yen'. I'd managed to figure out that she was betting yen on something involved with Otou-san, but I couldn't figure out why. Exposure to the Japanese language has helped me a lot with understanding certain words, but I still needed to reference English when it came to understanding the sentence as a whole. I had a long way to go before I would have perfected my understanding of the language.

 **"Midoriya-san 3-gōshitsu ni haitte susunde kudasai,"** the intercom on the ceiling buzzed to life. The voice that came out was almost robotic.

Oka-san proceeded to pick me up with her spare arm and got up from her seat. She then headed towards a hallway that held the examination rooms.

I mentally prepared myself to be examined by the doctor, but I had a weird feeling in the back of my head. The name "Midoriya-san" sounded awfully familiar.

But... I just couldn't put my finger on where I've heard it before.

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 **Translations:**

 **"Ichido atarashī tomodachi o tsukurimashita ka?" = "Did you make a new friend Ichido?"**

 **"Watashi wa himashi ga anata ni kore o oshieta 500-en o kakemashita" = "** **I bet 500 yen that Hisashi taught you that"**

 **"Midoriya-san 3-gōshitsu ni haitte susunde kudasai" = "Midoriya-san please proceed to enter examination room three."**

 **A brief explanation:**

 **As you can tell, this chapter was an extreme exposition dump on my part (sorry not sorry) and I was definitely going for a specific personality on Aeon's part.**

 **If you can't see the inspiration behind his character, I urge you to go look at Rick Riordan's "Percy Jackson" series and the "Kane Chronicles". I knew immediately when I started writing this chapter that I wanted to take those two series as an inspiration for the behavior of this bored God.**

 **Even if you're not interested in delving into Aeon's character, both series themselves are great and I recommend them to any reader who's into reading about mythology in a fun and action-packed manner. Don't be discouraged by the movies if you've seen them, they don't really represent the caliber of the books.**


	8. To Float In The Void

**Warnings: Psychological Trauma (brutally honest), y, brief depression, merciless tickling, parental love, and even more existentialism than before! Also, 2 packages of guava paste were consumed in the making of this chapter. _Two._**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothin' 'xept my OC. 'Nuff said.**

 **Edited as of 3-8-18**

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 **Text Key:**

 _Italics_ = Emphasized thoughts/text/dialogue

 **"Dialogue"** = Japanese Dialogue (For organization purposes)

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Izuku, Oka-san, and I were headed towards the examination room. Izuku was seemed interested in where we were going, a stark difference to how he was acting in the waiting room, while I was cautious about what was going to happen.

For the first time in my life, other than the first short week of my infancy, I was about to be examined and taken care of by a complete stranger. Of course, it was expected that I would be squeamish about the experience. No person likes to be poked and prodded with plastic and metal instruments.

Once we reached the door, Oka-san gave the door a slight knock with her knuckles, unable to open the door herself due to obvious reasons, and a female nurse had opened the door for the three of us. The woman seemed to have a friendly disposition, her smile being quite genuine and her eyes gleaming with something resembling both excitement and determination. I could only assume that either this woman had just been hired, probably the cause of her happy demeanor, or she just genuinely enjoyed treating children.

I honestly hoped for the latter situation.

 **"Kon'nichiwa Midoriya-san, anata wa kyō kensa no tame ni 2-ri no yōji o kakaete imasu ka?"** the nurse asked, her eyes directed at a clipboard that she was holding in her right elbow. It must have held our patient information or something akin to that.

Oka-san merely nodded and replied with something that resembled a confirmation to me. Although, I still had no idea what she was confirming.

The nurse relieved Oka-san of Izuku and I and put the both of us down on the examination table. It was surprisingly soft and cushy, nothing like the hard plastic tables that doctors used to use when I was alive. There was a crisp sheet of paper covering the table, making sure that the next patients would be safe from the spread of potential bacteria and disease. After a few attempts, I was finally able to sit up, the paper crunching and crinkling with each slight movement.

The nurse had moved back to the door in which we entered. She closed the door and then proceeded to start talking with Oka-san. It was most likely related to our medical history, diets, home-life, et cetera. I mostly drowned out the conversation and started to look around the room.

It was pretty standard for a pediatrician's office. There was the examination table, upon which we were seated, a couple of chairs for the parents and doctor, numerous shelves that held drugs behind a locked cabinet door, and a desk with multiple drawers. Nothing special by any means, not at all.

I glanced at Izuku, slightly curious about what he'd been getting up to ever since the abrupt end to his nap. At the moment, the little ball of energy, also referred to as my brother, was kicking his legs around, his eyes erratically moving from one object to another. All that pent up nap-energy must have finally been released, who would have thought.

And at the absolute worst time too, the strawberry on top of the grandiose cake. Energized or not, he was gonna have to sit there and be quiet little camper I was being.

Fortunately, he managed to keep quiet during the long conversation between the nurse and Oka-san. Maybe his imagination had taken over, or maybe he was simply entranced by the room, regardless of how uninteresting it was. Either way, the two adults finally stopped their bland palaver and the nurse approached the surprisingly comfy examination table.

Being conscious of our young, young age, the nurse instantly began to baby-talk the both of us. She was obviously trying to instigate a reaction from us, whether it be good or bad. Izuku was fair game, smiling and giggling at the newfound attention towards him. I, on the other hand, was completely unaffected, sitting calmly while the woman continued to speak to me in a hushed and lilting tone.

She pulled away from the uncomfortably close position, she had been only a _foot_ away from our faces, slightly hurt by my nonchalant reaction. She quickly shrugged it off, perhaps for the sake of professionalism, and strolled over to the desk in the corner of the room. She pulled open one of the many drawers and removed a stethoscope from the container.

Almost naturally, I crossed my arms tightly, the two appendages tucked tightly against my clothed chest. A little voice, which was most likely my ever-so-helpful subconscious now that I think about it, whispered, " _Brace for impact, Ichido."_ in my mind. Mental health? Check.

Although, I immediately understood what the voice _meant_ when the nurse who was previously putting on her handy 'ol stethoscope suddenly materialized directly in front of my face. She slid the _cold_ metal into underneath my infantile shirt, listening for a heartbeat. Once the woman was satisfied, indicated by the curt nod and removal of the cold material, she proceeded to lift the bottom of my shirt up and pull the article of clothing off my body. The cloth came off almost effortlessly, regardless of the two arms holding the shirt against my undeveloped body. The next movement was unanticipated. The female nurse tugged my diaper off, leaving me stark naked in the foreign room.

I was bare, unclothed, _nude_ in front of a complete stranger. This was _on a whole new level_ compared to being nude in front of Oka-san or my other 'new' family members.

It felt _wrong_ in every way _imaginable._

There were so many words I could use to describe what I was feeling at the moment, all of which were _negative_ in every connotation. As a sixteen year old, any doctor or pediatrician would have _asked_ before they did such a thing, being completely conscious of my feelings throughout the whole ordeal. As a baby, I wasn't expected to have an opinion. I felt _violated_ by the action; as if a huge chunk of my maturity was suddenly stripped away and stomped on violently.

Gloved hands stroked my soft and supple infant skin, running along where my main arteries and veins would be, some located in more private places that I _wouldn't_ want to be touched by a _stranger's_ hands. I was _petrified, disgusted._

I felt _ashamed_ at my inability to detest this woman's actions, to express my utter _horror._

By the time the woman had retracted her _prying,_ gloved hands from my body, I was shaking violently, tears streaming down my face faster than I could produce them. My arms were reaching out towards Oka-san, the person who should be _protecting_ _me_ from touching hands. I even _whimpered._

I felt _pathetic_ for begging. In a way, it was my surrender. My surrender to the female nurse, who thought she was just doing her job and nothing else.

The surrender of my maturity to the world around me shook me to my core. Oka-san plucked me up almost instantly, squeezing me tightly against her neck.

All I could do was sob into her shoulders, drowning in my overwhelming thoughts of _disgust._

I couldn't even turn around and watch my _baby_ _brother_ go through the same horrors that I had experienced. I knew he would be unaffected, that he wouldn't remember any of this.

He had everything that I wanted at the time, _an escape. A way to forget._

I never wanted more than in that moment to have the innocence of a real infant.

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It took about thirty minutes to calm me down, involving a lot of back-rubbing and cooing on Oka-san's part. I was re-dressed and given a new diaper, an attempt to make me feel more comfortable.

I was distraught, slightly out of it as I was tentatively returned to the comfy table with the crinkly paper. I gently sniffed my nose and rubbed my eyes with clumsy fists to keep my face clear of anymore unwanted bodily fluids.

I had made the point absolutely evident: I _refused_ to be touched in such a manner ever again, not without my own consent.

The female nurse looked apologetic, giving me a cautious ruffle of the hair to test the waters. I found myself being okay with the action, not nearly as violating as the event beforehand. The woman seemed a lot less fearful after I didn't protest, perhaps thinking that I had _already_ forgotten the incident with my 'weak infantile memory'.

I could never forget this _violation of my body_ , but I could forgive this woman. It was only her job, it wasn't _her_ fault.

It was _theirs_. My fists clenched at the thought of that _twisted_ deity, slapping me into a new body as if it wouldn't affect me _at all._

 _As if_ I'd just somehow _magically_ adjust to everything they were throwing at me. It was foolish of me to think I was used to a new life, a new _world._

I had clearly proven myself wrong, reality had come back to slap me in the face. A teenager, basically an adult, could _never_ blend into a world of infants. I lacked the naivety of a child, the imagination of a young mind. I could never get those things back, not now.

A dagger-like thought struck my mind. How long had I been _trying_ to go back to this child-like state? Maybe...

Maybe I've been trying for longer than I've been here, trying longer than I've been born. Maybe that's all I've ever wanted, until now.

Man, I really fucked up.

The angry thoughts subsided, leaving me with nothing but self-pity. The body shaking tremors had stopped, my face etched with nothing but a feeling of serenity.

I felt the right arm of my shirt roll up, the skin getting rubbed with a napkin and some chemical solution. A small prick of a needle infiltrated my vein as its contents filled my bloodstream. I didn't feel much, but it wasn't too bad.

Not nearly as bad. The needle retreated from my body, leaving behind a small dot of crimson liquid. The nurse dabbed a cotton ball against the open flesh and promptly pressed a tiny band-aid onto the wound, sealing it away from the open air. Now it was up to my body to react to the vaccine, to create antibodies to identify the disease if I ever got it.

Not nearly as invasive. The two adults in the room looked slightly confused, not that I could blame them. I'm sure that anyone would be confused when a child reacts so harshly and over the top when they are touched, yet fails to react at all to a needle piercing their skin.

The nurse moved to the secure medical waste bin and tossed away the used tube and plunger, putting the needle tip inside a large plastic bin, probably for sterilization. She moved to the desk from earlier and pulled out another tube full of vaccine and attached a fresh needle to it. She proceeded to do the same thing to my brother.

He cried. He gave a normal reaction to the pain. He was flustered and teary-eyed when the woman finally pressed a band-aid onto his arm.

The woman retreated from the two of us, disposing of the needle and empty tube in the same fashion as she did to mine. She plucked the latex gloves off her hands, stuffing them inside the medical waste bin like the syringes. Finally, she moved back to the seat behind the desk and started questioning Oka-san once more, writing down something on her clipboard every so often.

I spaced out, staring at my own twiddling, clumsy thumbs. I sunk deeper and deeper into my reverie until a certain sentence pulled me back out.

 **"Don'na kosei?"** the nurse suddenly asked. The woman continued, **"Karera wa nani ka chōkō o misemashita ka?"**

It was in that moment that I recognized _one particular word_ in that sentence, a sentence that was asking something about _both Izuku and me._

"Kosei". It meant ' _Quirk' in English._

 _All_ of the weird shit that had been happening suddenly made sense. The fire-breathing, the spoon levitating, the weird appearances of those two kids... the clues had been building and building up for so long. It took only one word to finally send me over the edge.

Aeon, you _bastard._ They had _fucked_ with my life.

They had reincarnated me into an anime, a manga. I was in My Hero Academia, a _fucking show._

My head turned towards my brother, the realization messing with everything I _thought_ I knew. The face, his hair, it all matched _a particular character._

The little boy whom I had been living with for the last five months of my life, a boy I had thought to be my _brother,_ was the protagonist, the one and only _Izuku Midoriya._

Everything _broke_ in that moment, my world _shattered_ in that moment.

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I became unresponsive in the following months, unable to determine the reality of my situation any longer.

The realization had made me question my existence, whether or not the life I had been leading up to that point was a dream or not. For all I knew, I could have been in a coma that was caused by the car crash, stuck between life and death as doctors tried to awake me from my nightmarish slumber. I could have also been dead, living what could be a hallucination or world created by my _twisted_ mind.

I was unable to tell whether or not the people around me were real or just illusions of my mind, baiting me into delving further and further into this phantasm.

I didn't know what to believe, each thought conflicted with one another, only furthering my confusion. The only thing I did was ignore my family, as I was sunken into a puddle of turmoil and distress. I couldn't bear to look at Izuku or my _mother._ Both of them existing seemed surreal to me; it was as if the both of them were in on some sick and revolting joke. A joke meant to tease and confuse me even more than I already _was._

The only person in our _home_ that I could trust was _Otou-san_ , simply because he did not _exist_ in the world I had known in my previous life. He was the only person I knew that seemed like his own person, not a character that someone had scribbled on a piece of paper.

He _was real,_ I had pushed myself to believe that. He _had to be real_ if he wasn't in the show or manga, he wasn't just a script being read.

Right?

Regardless of whether or not my reality really _was the_ reality, I had gone back to a primal state of living. Each and every day since that incident for the entirety of two months, I would only eat, drink, bathe, and sleep. I'd pried myself from my brother, refusing to face my demons.

I was forced to make contact with Oka-san every day, but I would always feel numb around the woman. I was sure that she noticed my awkward behavior, but didn't voice any concerns about it in front of me. She probably talked to Otou-san about it at night, confused as to why I had suddenly cut myself off from the world.

Otou-san, the only person in the house that I had grown to believe in, became an integral part of my life. He would take care of me more often than Oka-san, finding that I was much more responsive when _he_ was the one cradling me, shoving food in my mouth, and putting me to bed.

The person who was probably most affected by my sudden change in behavior was Izuku, my dear sibling. He was probably confused by my behavior, my sudden inability to face him and interact with him. The fact that he couldn't understand speech or the reason why I was ignoring him magnified the problem.

In an odd way, I had become just like an infant for that suffocating, stretched period of mental instability. I had become completely dependent on my two parents, more my father, to do everything for me. I had finally submitted to the lifestyle of a child, choosing to roam the field of doubt that had consumed my mind.

Fate had a peculiar way of working things out.

It was over this stretched period of time that I slowly began to accept my fate. I began to accept the idea that my life would be part of a long series of events that would lead to my 'brother' becoming the number one hero. I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to be involved in the process, however.

I began to accept the idea that my brother and everyone else that would be involved in my life wouldn't be real people, just characters who were imagined by a Japanese man who liked to draw out his ideas. Some of them would be stereotypes, and I began to accept that reality.

I began to sink deeper and deeper into the sea of doubts I had created, cementing my disbelief in the reality of this universe whilst also coming up with arrays upon arrays of new ideas that only furthered my uncertainty.

It was during one day, two months into my sudden change in behavior, that Oka-san and Otou-san did something completely unexpected. It was something that I now thank them for because if they hadn't acted, then I would have been depressed for far longer, maybe permanently.

Without them, I would have gone on to resent everyone I met in my life.

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I had been locked inside a room with Izuku.

Otou-san had pried me from the mashed up fruit that I was eating to drag me over to the nursery and plop me straight into my crib. Izuku followed suit, being dragged by Oka-san from the bathtub, and was placed in the crib with me.

The two adults promptly exchanged a few hurried words and walked out of the room, closing the door on the way out.

Thus, I was stuck with Izuku 'Protagonist' Midoriya in the tiny, overcrowded crib. Just fan-frickin-tastic.

A few awkward minutes passed, both of us just stared at the other, not sure what to do.

I was afraid to do anything, in fear that I would suddenly detonate the seemingly nuclear situation. Suddenly, Izuku moved and snatched me into a warm embrace.

The boy clutched onto me like I was his lifeline; as if he would die if he let go. I weakly returned the hug, still reluctant to grow attached to what I thought was a 'fake personality'.

When he finally pulled away from the hug, I was met with a watery-eyed expression. Izuku had noticed the treatment I was giving him, quite intelligent for a seven-month-old, and seemed to be shaken by my swift change in attitude. Oddly enough, he was almost exactly the same as his canonical character; a boy who would easily get hooked on the emotional issues of others.

I suppose his 'sister' wasn't excluded from the list. I reached out and held his hands reassuringly, trying to keep him from bursting into tears.

This was the moment when it finally came to me, in the form of laughter.

Izuku had started to giggle. I eventually followed suit, finding the laughter infectious and sickeningly enjoyable. The stupidly adorable giggling sounds, coming from both sides, unfortunately, finally ceased and a shocking thought finally presented itself.

I had been foolish, I had disconnected from the world for _no good reason._ The little boy in front of me was a living, breathing person, a character or not. Regardless of whether or not his destiny was set in stone, he was still a human being that deserved to be recognized as one.

I grabbed the little boy in front of me, encompassing him into an even tighter hug. The both of us were silent, the only sounds in the room being our constant breathing. Finally, Izuku returned the sentiment by squeezing back and rubbing my back with his free arm. It was bizarre how well we understood each other's emotions, especially when I was a 16-year-old fuck-up inside an infant's body while the other was a seven-month-old child who was destined to be the most powerful human being on the planet.

After the sentimental hug, I gave him an awkward smile which he was happy to return in the form of a toothy grin. We had made amends without a single word spoken, an act that would have been extremely difficult to pull off for any adult.

Now I just needed to get _our_ parents back into the room. A sadistic smile crept onto my innocent baby-face, I knew the _best_ way to get them in here.

I pounced onto my brother, pinning him to the floor of the crib. I pulled up both of my arms quicker than he could react and set to tickling the unlucky sibling right in the stomach. Almost instantaneous with the moment that my fingers made contact with the poor fellow's stomach, he burst into hysterical laughter which quickly turned into desperate wails for help, for an escape from the dreadful _tickling._

As I had aimed for, Oka-san and Otou-san cracked open the door to see what the noise was about. As soon as they saw Izuku begging for release from the tickle-storm (you can never escape the tickle-storm), they came rushing in to pry me off the poor kiddo.

Oka-san pulled me off of Izuku, thus ending the vicious tickle-assault, while Otou-san grasped my poor sibling in his arms and gave him a hearty set of bounces, occasionally cooing at the child to get him out of his panicked state. As punishment, Oka-san also commenced the process of bouncing me, which she knew for a _fact_ that I despised with my being.

After the horrible, _horrible,_ bounces subsided, I gave her a pointed stare which only caused her to crack a cheeky smirk. I couldn't help but grin in return, finding the whole situation itself quite hilarious.

 **"Anata wa orokana on'nanoko, ichigodesu ka?"** the woman chortled between words, her free hand covering half of her face. She then proceeded to kiss me on the cheek and blow a raspberry, causing me to snigger from the ticklish feeling. My arms tightened around my mother's shoulders, she seemed more human than ever to me.

I wanted to express my feelings, regardless of how it would damage my 'infant-image'.

 **"Yu–",** I started, trying to form the word in the back of my throat. I knew I could speak, my vocal cords felt developed enough to make the sounds, but I had ceased to use them until now. Oka-san seemed to notice the sound I made and repositioned me so that we could see eye-to-eye. It had even caught Otou-san's attention, the man seemed to be swishing back and forth between Oka-san and I. I tried again, **"Yu-ru sh... shh."**

The phrase could barely be formed, I was lacking experience in speaking with this new body. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to hum the sounds out.

 **"Sā, anata wa sore o hachimitsu ni suru koto ga dekimasu,"** Otou-san egged on, encouraging me to keep speaking. He hummed, thinking that I would mimic the sound.

I already knew the words I wanted to say, I was just having a difficult time getting my body to agree. I tried again:

 **"Yuru... shii,"** I strained to finish the phrase, I was so close to delivering the message, **"Yu.. rushi.. te"**

Oka-san and Otou-san shared a look of amazement before looking at me expectantly, hoping that I would repeat myself.

 **"Yurushite,"** I said again, more confident of the words rolling off of my tongue.

 **"Yurushite,"** Oka-san repeated, pondering the words, **"** **Watashitachi no akachan... Kanojo no saisho no kotoba!"**

Before I knew it, I was being assaulted with kisses. Otou-san and Oka-san were haggling me with pecks on the cheek and ruffles of my short, dark hair.

The words I have spoken, "Yurushite", meant much more than my parents could comprehend. The words begged forgiveness of them, for my utter stupidity and unwillingness to accept the world around me.

It meant that I was sorry, to the highest degree possible.

In the midst of the hugs and kisses I was getting assailed with, I became ready to embrace this reality with open arms. I was ready to create a new life for myself, to create a new destiny. I was right when I had said that I could never be the same person as I was before, I wouldn't be.

I would create a new identity in a new world, with new people and new experiences to offer. I knew exactly what I wanted to be, given the knowledge that I had about this realm.

I knew that I wanted to be a person who would help others in their time of need, the person that would save lives without hesitation.

This is the story of how I became a great hero, one step at a time.

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 ** _Translations:_**

 **"Kon'nichiwa Midoriya-san, anata wa kyō kensa no tame ni 2-ri no yōji o kakaete imasu ka?" = "** **Hello Mrs. Midoriya, you have two infants for an examination today?"**

 **"Don'na kosei?" = "Any Quirks?"**

 **"Karera wa nani ka chōkō o misemashita ka?" = "Have they shown any signs?"**

 **"Anata wa orokana on'nanoko, ichigodesu ka?" = "You're a silly little girl, aren't you Ichido?"**

 **"Sā, anata wa sore o hachimitsu ni suru koto ga dekimasu." = "Come on, you can do it, honey."**

 **"** **Watashitachi no akachan... Kanojo no saisho no kotoba!" = "Our babies... her first words!"**

 **"Yurushite" means "I'm sorry" or "Please forgive me". The double-definition shows more meaning behind the statement by itself.**


	9. Choking on Words

**Warnings: talking to people (my greatest fear tbh), Ichido's finally getting described for once, cutesy nicknames, another OC, puns, and NO MORE JAPANESE.**

 **Yes, I'M SERIOUS. Ichido actually learns to speak in this chapter, so the Japanese translations are OFFICIALLY over.**

 **Disclaimer: I am a trash can. Trash cans can't own manga or anime. Thus I don't own the manga or anime.**

 **Also important, here's a little information on the way Japanese names are presented and on honorifics. '-san' is the equivalent of say Mr/Mrs/Ms. The Japanese write names like so "Last Name, First Name". They also introduce themselves in the same manner. Just remember this little tidbit of info for the chapter.**

 **Edited as of 3-8-18**

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 **Text Key:**

 _Italics_ = Emphasized thoughts/text/dialogue

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If it wasn't already _incredibly_ obvious, I was not a social butterfly in my previous life.

I mean, I could definitely be an interesting person if you knew me for years, but I could not be the same around strangers or people I didn't know well. It was because of this shyness that I didn't have many close friends and had a difficult time making completely new ones. I would usually restrict myself to a small group of people, no more, no less.

It was due to my severe lacking of social abilities that I feared going to College and getting a job; I knew I would have a hard time adjusting to the new environment and making new friends. Although I never got to see either of those things happen, I had gotten thrust into an equally foreign situation.

And now, I am forced to make friends with my fellow infant. In all honesty, it is way easier to connect with people that didn't have the ability to judge you for your interests or your dislikes, but there was also the matter of gaining my Quirk.

I knew from the manga that Izuku used to be friends with Katsuki before he was deemed Quirkless, albeit a not very friendly 'friendship'. As soon as he was pronounced Quirkless, Katsuki dropped him like a hot potato, mostly ignoring him or bullying him until they both got accepted into UA.

It was because of my brother's horrible experience with being Quirkless that I held a tiny ball of fear in the back of mind that I would become Quirkless _too._ Although my brother was destined to be Quirkless, my Quirk (or potential Quirkless-ness) all depended on a random genetic dice-roll between Firebreathing, which was Otou-san's Quirk, Attraction of Small Objects, which was Oka-san's Quirk, or a potential combination or mutation of the two. Not to mention, I could also get a completely different Quirk from theirs due to spontaneous mutation or not even receive one at all due to genetic incompatibility.

The possibilities were pretty much endless, which only increased my fear that I would get a bad dice-roll. In this day and age, your entire livelihood would be affected by the Quirk you were born with. If it was strong enough, you could potentially become a Hero. Although, more than often, people received Quirks that were completely useless to the Hero-field, like Oka-san's Quirk or Mitsuki Bakugou's Quirk. Constantly emitting glycerin from your skin was nice, but not very practical on the battlefield.

I was basically in the dark on what my Quirk would be for the first two years of my life. Quirks normally came around the age of three or four, except in the case of the Quirkless and people with Mutant-category Quirks. If there was one thing I was sure of, I definitely did _not_ have a Mutant-Quirk; my body did not feel any different nor look any less human than the body from my last life.

As much as I wanted to be a hero, I couldn't start making plans for the future until I got my Quirk. This meant that I would simply have to learn valuable information in the meantime, however long that may last.

I decided after my first few words that I would shamble a loose plan for the time being, being conscious of the fact that my Quirk could easily change the whole thing.

I concluded that my main priority would be to learn Japanese to the best extent that I could. It was just a matter of how I would get the resources to do so...

Of course, _that_ was quite a challenge.

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Izuku and I were about one and a half years old when Otou-san first decided to take us to the local library.

The both of us were practically in the toddler stage, being able to walk steadily for a decent amount of time and consume solids as the majority of our diets, so Otou-san and Oka-san thought it was about time that they started to teach us to speak, write, and read fluently. Not to mention, they also wanted to give us a head start on the subjects that we would start learning about in what I would call the equivalent of American Daycare or Preschool.

It was for all these reasons that Otou-san decided that it was the _perfect_ occasion to take the two of us to the library. He left the apartment equipped with two toddlers, an empty backpack, and a long list of books tucked in his pocket.

The Musutafu City Public Library wasn't much to behold at sight; it was an old building composed of only brick and glass for the windows. It turns out that the structure was built pre-Quirk era, a product of my own time.

Although the exterior was less than amazing, the inside was a great deal more interesting. This was mostly because of what it had to offer: _books._

The innards of the building were filled with rows upon rows of bookcases, all stuffed to the brim with books and organized by a strict system. There seemed to be only one gigantic room consuming the space of the entire edifice. To the direct left of the entrance was a rather large desk that had a plaque that had gibberish written on it, I still could _not_ read at the time, attached to the front of it. A young man with stark black hair in a ruffled, unkempt style and rimless glasses seemed to be manning the station, but he seemed more interested in the unusually thick textbook he was reading.

As soon as Otou-san walked us through the double door entrance, the man nodded at us and promptly returned to his captivating textbook, muttering something under his breath about 'children' that I could barely make out. After having a brief conversation with the desk-man, with words too difficult for my unenlightened brain, and leaving us in his care, Otou-san made a beeline towards one of the bookcases near the back of the large, large room.

The man sighed, pulled out two kiddie-chairs from under his desk, leaned over the structure, and finally plopped the two green colored seats on the ground. It was when he turned around to get something from behind the desk that I noticed the odd part about the man; he was two-dimensional.

The instant he turned sideways, his visible body became the size of a sliver of paper. As he approached the 360-degree mark in turning, his body was fully visible again, the backside of his plaid dress-shirt facing our still-standing figures as he dug through a bin he had on the floor. He turned around to face us again, becoming nearly invisible and then visible like earlier, and dropped a few puzzle blocks on the floor for us to _play_ with. He speedily returned to the sitting position he had earlier and stuck his face nose-deep into the scarily thick textbook from earlier.

I could only assume that he was used to parents leaving their children at the front while they searched for books and that he hated when he had to do so.

Regardless, I couldn't really play with puzzle blocks, unlike Izuku who was going to town on that blue cube block, and I wanted to test my language-understanding and speaking capabilities, so I did the only thing that I could do.

I talked to the librarian.

"U-Um..." I started, trying to sound out the syllables of each word to keep the sentence moving. I continued on with my cringe-inducing pronunciation, "What is book reading?"

I winced slightly at my sentence structure, I was sure that I had messed up somewhere, but I wasn't quite sure where I had messed up. The young librarian was startled out of his reading-reverie and then proceeded to lean over the counter to look at me. He pulled on an overly-friendly smile and proceeded to speak:

"I'm reading a book about science, little lady," he said in the sweetest tone he could muster, really emphasizing that 'baby-tone' that most people dish out when they're speaking to young children, "My name is Bakku Youshi, what's your name?"

"Mido-riya," I stressed each syllable individually, trying to master the art of Japanese pronunciation, "Ichi-do."

"Nice to meet you, Midoriya-chan," the librarian chuckled. He then proceeded to do an exaggerated bow, the upper half of his body becoming paper thin while his legs were still completely visible. It made for quite the sight. The man quickly returned to his upright position and sat down once more, proceeding to dive back into the textbook from earlier with a residing smile on his face from our little interaction.

It seems like my attempt at conversation got cut off short.

"What kind of science?" I asked, trying to mimic the same word he used for 'science' from earlier. The reaction I got from the question was extremely unexpected.

The librarian suddenly slammed the textbook on the desk, causing all the little pencils, paper clips, and papers littered on the top to quickly bounce up and land back on the desk. The man slowly rose from his chair, both hands placed firmly on the wooden desk.

"I'm _sooo_ glad you asked," the librarian wore an unsettlingly intense gaze, his honey-brown eyes shining with passion through the transparent glass lenses. The man launched into a long series of explanations, making wild arm gestures and even spinning around a few times when he got really excited. At first, I was extremely startled by the pace that he could speak at, but I grew slightly guilty as he kept going due to the fact that I couldn't understand a single word he was saying. Even Izuku seemed slightly confused, occasionally staring at the man and then returning to the puzzle blocks with a puzzled expression plastered on his face.

"–and that's how life started on Earth!" Bakku-san finished after a good five minutes, heavily panting from the incredibly intense speech which was apparently about the origin of life. He sat back down with a deep exhale and asked, "Doesn't it sound fun to learn science?"

I could only absently nod after witnessing his ardent lecture about the beginning of life. Oh boy, if this is what _all_ people in this world are like, then I shouldn't have insecurities anymore.

Almost simultaneous with the moment I stopped nodding, Otou-san came speed-walking towards Bakku-san's desk, an armful of books and textbooks in tow.

"Ichido, Izuku," our Father addressed us quickly, seemingly struggling under the intense weight of the large stack of books in his arms, "Up, stand up."

The two of us got up from the waiting chairs, Izuku taking a moment to place the puzzle game on the chair and give it a reassuring pat. Otou-san hastily dropped the immense volume of books on the table and took off his backpack, zipping it open. Otou-san handed Bakku-san a small plastic card and the librarian quickly scanned each and every book at break-neck speed. After the entire pile was checked out, Otou-san managed to fit all of the books inside his large backpack and proceeded grabbed both Izuku and me by the hands.

I felt myself being dragged out of the library, Otou-san in a haste to get home as quickly as possible. I gave a tiny wave goodbye to Bakku-san, which the kind man promptly returned with his papery arm, and was rushed home.

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The moment we entered our apartment, Otou-san dropped the bag on the floor, which landed on it with an extremely strong thud. The floor groaned under the weight, begging for its sweet release. Otou-san then dragged us into the living room and let go of us. He then proceeded to practically _melt_ onto the couch.

I can say that it took a good two minutes for him to start snoring lightly and another three minutes for him to curl up into a ball in the corner of the couch, snoring even heavier than before. Izuku figured that it was a good time to play, so he waltzed over to the toy chest in our room and returned with his trademark All Might action figure and a Snipe action figure, which happened to be his second favorite hero.

In fact, any hero other than All Might was basically his second favorite hero.

He stumbled towards me, I was still standing in front of Otou-san, trying to wake him up, and shoved the Snipe figurine in my hand. He, of course, kept his favorite toy.

"Play please," he pleaded, his little fists balled up in excitement. That All Might toy was probably suffocating from his grip.

"No now, 'kay?" I politely pushed the Snipe action figure back at him, trying to wake Otou-san from his snoring state. I needed to learn the Japanese language goddamnit.

Izuku frowned at me, little tears forming in the corners of his eyes and threatening to stream down his face.

"Tou-san nap," he pointed at our still slumbering father and hugged Toy All Might and Toy Snipe against his T-shirt, "Play now, learn later. 'kay?"

I started considering the offer, absently rubbing my cheek in deep thought. On one hand, it would be best to wake Otou-san up as quickly as possible and get him to start teaching us, but there was also a Golden Opportunity to enjoy my toddler-hood once more. One choice would benefit me in the future while the other would provide some level of a redeeming childhood...

Well, fuck it. I had a lot of time to focus on the future, but I shouldn't burn away my childhood planning for it.

I took the Snipe action figure from his held out arm. Izuku first looked surprised at me for changing my mind, everyone in the house knew how damn bullheaded I could be, but swiftly took on an excited expression.

"Oh no!" he fake gasped, his mouth in the shape of an 'o', "A house on fire! All Might is here to save the day!"

He made All Might fly around the living room, occasionally zipping into the kitchen and both our bedroom and our parent's bedroom. He finally settled on the TV being the "burning house" and made All Might land in front of the object. Pausing for a short moment, he looked at me and gestured for me to join.

I chuckled and lifted the plastic Snipe in my hand, "And Snipe too."

We played for a solid thirty minutes until Otou-san woke from his trip-induced nap. We both ended up tackling him the moment the poor man got up.

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A few months passed since our first visit to the library, and it definitely paid off going.

Izuku and I were able to speak much more coherently than the first time Otou-san used textbooks to teach us, as to be expected by two-year-olds. After the entire learning process, I had a new respect for non-reincarnated people. While I had the entire English language to think in and compare to the Japanese language, Izuku was able to catch on quicker due to his lack of another language as well as his undeveloped psyche. I remember hearing once in my old life that the younger a child is taught something, like fundamental mathematics as well as domestic and national languages, the more likely they are to understand and retain that knowledge.

Since I was speaking from a 16-year-old viewpoint, I was way past the mental age that let me easily catch onto a new language. I found that the best way to fix the issue of constantly using English was to think in Japanese, trying to make the language my primary tongue instead of English. It kind of works, but I find myself switching to English when I encounter new words or phrases to read, write, or say.

Otou-san continued to take us to the library every week or so, usually bringing in and coming out with a large number of books on hand. Bakku-san grew accustomed to our company and usually had little chats with us, sometimes on Otou-san's request so that he could test our language skills. There was this one time when Izuku made the same mistake of asking what Bakku-san was reading and the man launched into a twenty-minute rant about the strategic mistakes of the Spartans in the Battle of Thermopylae. I guess not wearing chest armor kind of makes you vulnerable. Kind of.

Bakku-san was really just an awkwardly sweet man who had a burning passion for reading and learning new things. In retrospect, it was probably one of the main reasons why he grew up to become a librarian, for the books. The man once told me himself that his goal was to read every single nonfiction book in the library. I figured he could do it, simply because he was in his early twenties and he had already sat through a few hundred books. I honestly wondered if he kept a log at home for each book he read, given that the man had an unhealthy obsession with reading.

Regardless, the visits to the library were usually short, much to my dismay, and Otou-san always came rushing home to dump the increasingly heavy backpack that he always used on the tortured apartment floor. The load of books just seemed to get bigger and bigger as our parents decided to teach us more and more. Eventually, we had managed to cover most basic material that is taught in pre-K and Kindergarten all in the span of a few months, given that we spent most of each day learning instead of goofing off.

It was soon decided that we knew enough to start attending a Daycare, just so Oka-san and Otou-san could work more and save up some yen for the future. Up until now, they had been taking alternating shifts at their workplace and shifting between a day off and a day at work. I respected their decision, it was for the financial well-being of our family, but it didn't make it any less intimidating to be stuffed into a building with a large group of toddlers.

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"I don't wanna go," Izuku huffed, sitting down in the frame of our bedroom door with his arms crossed.

It was the first day of Daycare and my ten-minutes-younger-brother was unwilling to budge from his spot. The little boy had been stubborn about it all morning, refusing to even think about walking out of our shared bedroom without some sort of compensation.

Unfortunately, the only compensation he could settle for was not going to the Daycare at all. As soon as Oka-san explained the concept of a Daycare to him, he immediately rejected the idea and wanted to stay at home. I guess we both had the same horrible trait: the ability to be infuriatingly stubborn at will.

"Why?" Oka-san cried, massaging her scalp roughly with her hands. The poor woman, suffering from stress so early. She queried, "Why don't you want to go to Daycare with Ichan?"

I cringed at the nickname that Izuku had dubbed me, finding it too cutesy for my rather sardonic and rough personality. The little boy had decided that the name "Ichan", very similar to "Kacchan" in its cutesy nature, was very fitting (in his damned opinion) and was a lot easier to say than Ichido. He was just learning how to speak at the time he came up with the name, so I gave him a pass.

It was unfortunate that the name stuck, however. At least Otou-san had the decency to call me Ichido, unlike Oka-san and my _dear little brother._

"What if all the other kids don't wanna play with me like Ichan?" Izuku whined, still holding his ground. The boy suddenly gasped, undergoing a fantastical revelation, "What if they don't like the heroes _I_ like!?"

Oka-san and I made eye-contact for a brief second before bursting into laughter, Izuku looking at the both of us like we were madmen for underestimating the _extreme_ scenario he thought up.

"Izuku," I said between snickers, "I don't think there's any kid out there who _doesn't_ like All Might."

He only frowned in response, still thinking that the scenario he thought of was _very_ _likely_ to happen. Nevertheless, he did stand up from his spot in the doorframe and took Oka-san's hand. The boy still had faith that his _absolutely horrific_ predictions could come true, but he trusted that everyone likes All Might.

I mean, who doesn't like All Might? Well... other than Endeavor, and Shigaraki... and All for One... okay, well, a _lot_ of people don't like him I guess, but almost every _kid_ liked him at some point. I still hold my opinion that it would be really difficult to find a _child_ that did not like the number one hero.

Oka-san started rushing to get us ready for our first day, changing the two of us out of our footie pajamas (even though they were comfortable and adorable, they still damaged my self-esteem) and into plain tee-shirts and shorts. She then fed us mashed potatoes, which were one of the better foods they decided to feed me, and then cleaned us up.

Oka-san let Izuku go off for a bit while keeping me hostage, heading to the bathroom with me in her grasp and grabbing a hairbrush on the way. She walked into the room, closing the door on the way in, and placed me on the vanity so that I could see her brush my hair. The brush moved erratically through my sable, curly hair, running into the knots that were extremely common on Otou-san's side. I winced every once in a while was the instrument of torture continuously pulled at my hair strands.

I looked into the mirror in the meantime, letting my appearance sink in. Black irises and a bunch of freckles stared me back in the face. It was still really hard to get used to, having a new appearance and all. Sometimes, when Oka-san or Otou-san took me near a mirror, I still expected to see my old figure in the reflection.

It was always an odd feeling when the foreign face showed up.

It took about ten minutes, given that my hair was a lot longer than a few months ago, and Oka-san then put my hair into her favorite style: a bun. My hair was not compliant, so some of it stuck out in an unruly manner, seeming a lot like curly bangs. It was adorable in a way but also held the same ruggedness that Otou-san and Izuku had.

After I gave a brief nod of confirmation to the hairstyle, Oka-san lifted me off the bathroom vanity and softly placed me on the floor. I made my way to the door where Izuku was waiting and began to put on the tiny pair of sneakers that my parents had gotten me.

Oka-san took a few minutes before meeting us at the door and then took the both of us by the hand, opening the door and leading us out of the building. The walk to the Daycare was very short, only taking about fifteen minutes to actually get there.

Finally, the three of us stood in front of the building, arms linked to Oka-san. The building itself was rather uninteresting, being what you'd normally expect for a facility for children and containing a playground on the side of the structure.

"Excited?" Oka-san asked after a short period of silence, looking at the both of us.

Izuku shrugged and I shared his sentiment. Like it or not, I was _going_ to go in there.

I nodded as I took my first step, knowing that it would be my very first achievement on the road to becoming a Hero.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

 **Just saying, Bakku-san's name is EXTREMELY ironic given that he likes reading textbooks.**


	10. Failure to Plan

**Although, I hope I made up for my hiatus by giving you all a stupid long chapter and an extra Omake at the end that isn't necessary, but cute.**

 **Warnings: smol Bakugou's potty mouth, important reveal?!, painfully real issues with my character, and children's activities.**

 **Disclaimer: Huh Durr, I don' own My Hero Academia. Only my Original Character.**

 **Edited as of 7-9-18 ~ I'm a dumb fuck who can't update on time! haha**

・・・・

 **Text Key:**

 _Italics_ = Emphasized thoughts/text/dialogue

・・・・

We walked briskly through the obnoxiously colored halls of the daycare, hurrying towards what could potentially be the start of a _wonderful_ or absolutely _horrific_ academic career.

The pressure was _on._

The concept of first impressions wasn't my main concern: teachers couldn't make steady opinions this early, and toddlers didn't understand what their interests were quite yet. No, my _biggest_ concern had to be that Izuku, the child that was _constantly_ bullied throughout his childhood, would be thrust into a room full of random children without the proper social skills necessary to survive _._ If I was being honest with myself, I was sure that he wouldn't even last the day.

With each step closer to the classroom, I could feel the anxiety radiating off of my sibling's body. The poor kid was wringing his fingers out like there was no tomorrow, and I _couldn't_ blame him. I know I had addressed his concern in a lax manner, it was how I addressed nearly _everything_ , to be frank, but it was painfully understandable to see him acting like this.

It really reminded me of my own personal experiences in school: a time when everything was a competition and the only things you cared about were numbers on paper. It was a bittersweet time, and definitely not one I liked to revel in.

I partly wondered how I would spend my time that day. Of course, I wouldn't skip out on the Japanese lessons that they would give there, that was simply a necessity, but I wasn't going to sit around and learn my _numbers._ I thought that maybe I could do a little abstract planning if I were provided paper or a writing utensil of some sort; I was the type of person that would forget even the most important things if they weren't written down on paper, it was one of my various Achilles' heels. My previous mother used to nag me constantly about it; she was always saying, "Failure to plan is planning to fail" and sticking post-it notes around the house in, admittedly, odd places.

It wouldn't even matter if I wrote in English, I reasoned. If I made the scribbles look unintelligible on paper, then it was highly unlikely that anyone but me would be in a position to decipher what I had composed.

I also thought about chaperoning Izuku, just to make sure that he could at least attempt to make a few friends, but I ultimately decided against it. It wasn't because anyone we met in this school wouldn't be going to UA, but mainly because that would cause him to be dependent on me. As much as I enjoyed taking care of children and guiding them like the lost little sheep they are, I knew that it would be destructive to let such a thing happen. I resolved to keep myself at a reasonable distance, but not too much as to detach myself entirely. Sounds easy in concept, no?

A small part of my conscience urged me to consider otherwise, that I was selfishly trying to utilize my knowledge of the future, but it was decided. Besides, that knowledge was temporary, I hadn't watched that far into the anime nor had I read that much. As far as I was concerned, my current knowledge would last me, at _most_ , until the UA internships came by. The idea of not knowing the events after that terrified me, as well as the notion that I had already shifted the order of things. It only furthered my urge to write it all down so I could catch up to and keep track of my rampant thoughts.

It was only by the time that we had actually reached the door to our new classroom that I realized that my mind was racing a mile a minute, scrupulously picking at every detail I could think of. A brief burst of panic flashed across my face for what could have been a millisecond until my trained 'toddler' mask was slapped back on. I started to wonder whether or not I had given away my thoughts during our walk, or whether or not someone had bothered to notice my stewing during that time.

I duly noted that I would have to work on my poker face, in order to let my 'knowledge' stay the awkward secret that it was.

Regardless, Oka-san told her goodbyes, and I swear that I heard a mini-prayer in there, and thrust us through the classroom door.

Fantastic.

・・・・

Surprisingly enough, the two of us were early for the beginning of class. The only other people in the room were two male and female workers. The room was surprisingly tame for a place that supposedly had children in it for the majority of the day, as there wasn't a speck of grime anywhere or even unintelligible doodles on the wall. I reckoned that they must have determined janitors to keep up such an arduous task, and I quietly thanked them for their mostly unnoticed work.

Immediately, upon eye contact, the two adults practically _zoomed_ towards us and began to speak to us in lulling, babyish tones.

It was at that very moment when I was swept off the ground and cuddled by the caretakers that I understood why Oka-san left us there without so much as a word between the people running the place, and I half-resented her for leaving us to suffer.

Regardless, the daycare people finally put us _back_ down and asked a various assortment of questions. I was graced with queries like:

"You can speak so clearly! What's your name dearie?"

"Are you twins? If only your parents took the chance to give you matching outfits... such a missed opportunity!"

"Do you like drawing? Can you write? Want to practice writing kanji with me?"

"What's your favorite superhero? Do you want to be a hero when you grow up?"

"Did you get your Quirk yet, sweetie? Are you still waiting for an _amazing_ power?"

I could go on and on, but then we'd be here forever, wouldn't we? I tried to answer the questions the best I could, but every time I went to respond to one, the other worker would pop out another question immediately. Is this what hell is like? Maybe my own personal one…

Eventually, the two employees of the _fine daycare establishment_ moved on from pestering the two of us with the never-ending stream of questions. Of course, the only reason their attention was diverted was that other children began to arrive, which was equally horrible in my opinion.

And my world got a whole lot fucking worse when Katsuki Bakugou was shoved through the door by an equally unenthusiastic Mitsuki.

Aeon just had it out for me, didn't they?

・・・・

We were singing songs and I was fairly sure that I wanted my life to end right then and there.

I probably would have been happy with that, just being struck down by a _casual lightning bolt_ in the middle of a daycare and leaving my demons behind. That sounded nice.

Too bad I can't have nice things. That would be too kind.

I absently clapped along with the rhythm while wondering what had led up to this point in my life. On the bright side, it seemed as though I wasn't the only one unhappy with the activities available. Katsuki looked as though he were dying inside, as well as the two goonies he had managed to befriend within the last hour of the daycare's start. At least Izuku was lapping it up. The kid was an optimist, and I honestly envied his ability to have fun in my personal hell. Not many had such a blessed ability.

At some point, the daycare workers drifted towards telling stories while keeping all of the small children hostage within what they had dubbed the 'sharing circle'. God, I was getting flashbacks to my own preschool experiences at this point. I started repeating "This will end" in my head, the mantra itself being an attempt to comfort me with the idea that this was a temporary torture. I'll be frank, it didn't do much to help my mental health during that period.

Finally, after the last story, the two caretakers found it a fitting time to let us go, briefly mentioning that we can do anything inside the room as long as it didn't involve sharp objects. And then all the other children began to scream.

The quality of my life just _couldn't_ stop degrading at this point.

・・・・

At some point, I had managed to smuggle a notepad and writing utensil into the slightly tucked away corner of the classroom. I, the paranoid little bean that I am, checked constantly as to whether or not the other children or the two workers were watching me. Of course, I was more concerned about the two adults, and whether or not they could read English, so I tried to tuck myself deeper into the corner, right where the many bookshelves and toy racks obscured me from sight. As an extra precaution, I decided to encrypt my notes. I had no reason to believe that the workers didn't know the English language, as it was commonly learned in Japan with other tongues. A few choices immediately blew through my mind, but I eventually settled on using a Caesar Cipher, just to sate my steadily increasing paranoia.

Sure, it would be hard to write, but I was sure that I would eventually roll into the habit anyways.

Now, what could I write about? Immediately, I scribbled down a somewhat comprehensible timeline in a flow-chart styled manner, making sure to give brief descriptions at each large dot. As I wrote it down, the constant worry about forgetting ebbed away. Since that was settled, I then chose to start making potential predictions.

In hindsight, there was so much to consider, too much perhaps. After a few minutes stuck in thought, I settled on working in chronological order. It seemed easier that way.

First things first: Quirks. Two different possible routes that had drastically different ends, and it all depended on whether or not I got a good Quirk or not. In my mind, there was no distinction between being Quirkless and having a passive Quirk; they were one and the same to me. Not that I didn't have respect for harmless Quirks, Oka-san's being a shining example of passive yet useful, but they had little to no use in the hero field.

A few seconds of urgent tapping on the paper and I eventually scribbled down "One for All?" on the "Quirkless/Bad-Quirk" timeline. Didn't know how I was gonna convince All Might to share the wondrous Quirk with me, but I was really hoping that I wouldn't have to. I put down another barely legible bullet underneath the question-idea and began to conjure up more ideas. I couldn't figure out much to do in that scenario, so I scrawled "Background Character/Give up". At least if I gave up on becoming a hero, I could really pour my energy into ensuring that Izuku was successful. It wasn't too bad of a way to impact the super-powered world, and I was much more comfortable with taking a low-profile approach to help Izuku achieve his dreams. hell, maybe I could even run his Hero Agency, or be an agent there at the very least.

I had finally moved onto the other timeline, the "Good-Enough-Quirk" timeline. I began to sink back into hypotheticals when, suddenly, a high-pitched, yet somehow gravelly sounding voice pierced through my continuous sounds of pencil tapping.

"Is _that_ dork your brother?"

My head _snapped_ up at the sound, at least I didn't hear a crack resounding from my _neck_ , to find a somehow calm Bakugou Katsuki staring at me with those deathly red eyes. The first thought that came screeching into my head was ' _oh lord I haven't interacted with him since I was three months old'_ , and I hoped _dearly_ that the initial panic of recognizing him didn't show on my face. His arm was outstretched, a sole finger pointing at no other than my brother, who was shamelessly 'flying' around the room with an All Might action figure that he had produced out of nowhere. I was sure that Oka-san had stripped us of all toys before we left. Dandy.

"Um, yeah," I said, awkwardly lowering the notepad I had been tapping viciously and looking down straight at the ground, feeling the ever-intense emotion of _second-hand embarrassment_ in addition to the already scorching hot ball of awkwardness that sat unbudging in my stomach _._ I could feel Katsuki glaring holes into my forehead with his scowl, only furthering my regret in _not_ teaching Izuku some semblance of social skills beforehand.

"Whatcha doing?" the boy pried, suddenly shifting gears from the question asked beforehand. Katsuki tried to peer over the edge of the notepad to sneak a peek at my scribblings. As quick as lightning, I slammed the paper against my shirt, so as to keep its contents secret. It was harmless to show him, I knew he wouldn't understand a lick of it, but it was still suspicious for me to have paper and not be drawing on it. How _could_ I attempt to explain this if he told one of the teachers? It would have been rather awkward for me to explain a timeline, wouldn't it?

"Hmph, then you're a fucking weirdo too," Katsuki muttered to himself, arms crossed and all pouty like. It was weird hearing such dirty words coming from a kid, but I had to remind myself that this was _Bakugou_ we're talking about. Nonetheless, _ouch_ , I was lumped together with Izuku just because I was secretive and he didn't have reasonable social habits. I should probably change that, shouldn't I?

"No, I'm not!" I grumbled back, crossing my arms tightly and squeezing the notepad containing all my secrets close to my body, "You're the weird one, 'cause you're snoopin' in my business!"

And suddenly, there was a silence between the two of us, droning on as I squirmed around in my little corner. Then, out of nowhere, the little devil _smiled_.

"Oh yeah?" he teased, pulling on an even _more_ devious grin, "Then show it."

"W-What?" I blurted out, confused as to what he even meant. Of course, it was Bakugou. I didn't know _what_ to expect.

"Yeah!" the little Katsuki puffed his chest out, hands on his small hips, "I'm gonna break outta here an' explore the woods with those two back there–" he pointed towards a kid with obvious, red wings and another child who was currently stretching his fingers out at an inhuman length "–So, if you wanna show you're not a weirdo, then you gotta sneak out too!"

I could only stare at him incredulously, mouth hanging wide open as I struggled to comprehend Katsuki's childlike logic. I had only one response for the conceited little ball of anger in front of me.

"No."

"What? Why the _hell not?!_ " his smile melted away in an instant, morphing into an expression that can only be defined as offended.

"Cause, I'm not a _dumbass._ You can't just expect me to follow you around in the middle of the _goddamn_ woods, that would be stupid," I retorted, giving him a little taste of his own type of rage: the cursing variety. Albeit, I had toned down on the word usage and the intensity of said word usage.

"Uh, fine then!" Katsuki snapped out, the shock of witnessing another cursing child still evident on his face. Oh, it felt _amazing_ to revel in that face, he looked so _genuinely surprised._ He continued to gripe in distaste, "Then we'll explore and _you're_ gonna hafta hear those dumb songs and stories again!

"Eh, fair enough," I shrugged, giving a careless smile in response to his sad excuse of a threat. If worse comes to worst, I could just brainstorm more ideas and scramble to write them during the song breaks.

"Well, whatever. I'm gonna ask your weird brother to come anyway, not like we need _you_ ," Katsuki gloated, trying, and failing, to use psychological tricks on me. I think I was too mentally aware of what he was trying to do to be swayed by such an argument. Katsuki was really just desperate for me to follow him so that he could get the gratification of having another person make him feel like a shepherd, and I _knew_ that this was his intention.

"Sure," I said as I rhythmically tapped my fingers against the cardboard back of the notepad, "It's not like I could really stop him from going, and it's not my job to make choices for him anyways."

Katsuki's expression was hilariously irritated, I couldn't help myself from chuckling a little. With both hands raised in the air, he silently fumed and walked away without another word. At least he knew not to feed the trolls.

Now, back to planning.

And suffering from those songs.

・・・・

The two daycare workers eventually herded the entirety of the toddler population, including myself, into the center of the room to continue with the previous singing activities. Classics including "Mary had a Little Lamb" circled around the room, some of the children not even noticing that our caretakers had repeated a few songs.

I tried to use the time to think, but I probably didn't end up thinking about much with those vexing songs droning on. The sound of the singing, if a chorus of toddler squeaks could even be _called_ that, was suffocating. It was almost as if I were surrounded by the worst orchestra in existence, smack dab in the middle of the cacophony.

What was even worse was that I, in a fit of panic when the workers had rounded the children up, had stuffed the incriminating notepad up my shirt, _without_ removing the cardboard back that made it so stiff. I would have eventually removed the back of the notepad so that I could carry my notes home in a neat, folded manner, but I guess I wasn't thinking when I was pushed back to that singing hell. As a result of my dismay, I was now stuck in a permanently upright state, unable to take more than a shallow breath or even stretch without fear of revealing my contraband through my shirt.

About thirty minutes passed by until the two adults finally decided to end my suffering and put the entirety of the daycare's population to sleep for 'nap time'. This came as a sense of relief to me, as I could _finally_ take out the stiff rectangle that had been pasted against my chest for nearly half an hour.

I shuffled to my respective futon without complaint; I wasn't up for arguing with two adults as to why it was too early to sleep. I snuggled under the skin tight blanket, moving sideways and hastily darting the notepad out from under my shirt. I gave a brief look at the two workers, just to make sure they were attending to other children, and slid the plans under my futon. Anything to keep my activities safe from prying eyes.

I laid sideways, a bad habit I had retained and somehow found comfortable, as I awaited the exit of the daycare workers. They continued to shepherd numerous children into cots, tucking them in as demanded, and after everyone was settled in, they quietly stood back and waited for everyone to 'fall asleep'. I wasn't one to believe that most children actually slept during a nap time, I sure as hell didn't when I was in daycare. I would just pretend to be asleep by closing my eyes and breathing quietly.

So I did just that until the telltale click of a closing door resounded through the room.

I peeked one eye open to see that the room was completely barren, and nobody had dared move from their spots. I scrutinized the room with my one peeper open, finding a pretty obvious security camera nestled between the ceiling and the door. I assumed that the caretakers used it as a catalyst to make sure we weren't getting into any trouble while they were away, and it was a pretty good way to avoid parental lawsuits. The emotionless glass eye of the camera lazily panned left and right, sometimes pausing for a bit when it hit far left; it was a dinky little thing.

I let out a brief sigh and closed my eye. If I couldn't write anything down now, then there was no point in bothering to keep up my work. Might as well try one of those power naps. I never had the time to do them before; I had too much homework to sleep comfortably. I let the incessant thought of going to sleep fill up my head, the mind-numbing effect kicking in almost immediately.

I barely heard the pitter-pattering of small feet or my brother's hushed voice as I drifted away.

・・・・

I didn't quite expect to wake up at home, dressed in fresh pajamas and tucked into my crib. It was, for the most part, disorienting and led to a copious amount of spacing out. I somehow felt even more tired than I had been when I fell asleep, which said something about my ability to successfully nap, so I settled on closing my eyes and resting when I realized that nobody was going to come into the room.

My mind was a stagnant pool of water, just kinda sitting there waiting to be stirred. In my slumberous trance, I couldn't even formulate a coherent thought other than the desire to go back to sleep, but my body starkly refused to let me go that easily. If only my brain and body could agree on things, it would make my life much easier. Maybe if I could shock myself awake, a threatening or stressful thought maybe? I dug through my mind for something, until a pang of familiarity hit me.

 _Damn_ , I left my notes at the daycare. I merely hissed in annoyance, but the losses weren't too devastating. At least they were all encoded, it would have been a real tragedy if I hadn't done that. But...

Caesar ciphers weren't necessarily _that hard_ to figure out. My hissing just turned up in intensity.

I continued to quietly hiss out of my mouth, waiting for my lungs to empty out a volume of air before filling back up. The tempered breathing eased my stress on the matter of loss, but the sensation of breathing started to feel weird after a while. It felt as though I were breathing out liquid rather than air, and it was itching wildly in my throat.

I peeped an eye open in curiosity but immediately regretted my actions.

The one thing I saw when I opened them was a stream of flame, the edges of the fire licking at the empty air and the color blinding yellow bordered with a russet-like red. The fact that this was happening threw all orderly thoughts out of my head, as _I was currently breathing fire out of my mouth oh lord._ I sucked in a breath and the flames vanished, the sudden removal of the fire hazard causing me immense happiness. I let out a sigh of relief, only to have the fire make its unwanted presence known.

It was then that I did the only thing that my riddled mind would let me do.

Shriek.

 **Omake ~ The Sting**

Izuku was shaking in his cot, quietly mumbling to himself as he waited for the door to shut and for Kacchan to start the plan. He wasn't completely sure how he got pulled into this situation, but he didn't wanna let Kacchan down just because he got scared! Heroes don't do that…

So he was going to play along. Kacchan just wanted to go to the park next door, right? That didn't sound _too_ dangerous, and Ichan probably said yes too! Yes, he could even see her sneakily looking around the room!

His hope was snuffed out like a candle in the wind when Ichan closed her eye and didn't move. Kacchan seemed to get up after a while, hurriedly crawling behind one of the shelves and violently shaking Izuku.

"Okay, okay!" Izuku whined, pushing himself out of his futon. He frowned when All Might fell off of his pillow, and immediately plucked his plastic body from the ground and delicately tucked his figure into the futon. Can't have the coolest hero sleep without a blanket! Kacchan started to wake up the other two boys that were going to explore with them, and Izuku quietly snuck to and sat next to the same shelf Kacchan was hiding behind. He didn't really understand why they had to hide behind the shelf, why couldn't they just walk through the door and go? He should probably ask Kacchan why…

"Kacchan?"

"Stop that name" Kacchan rudely shot back at him, "And what?!"

"Why we sittin' _here_?" Izuku asked, curiosity laden within his words.

Instead of an immediate response like Izuku had been expecting, Kacchan instead dragged him by the arm to the end of the bookshelf and forced his head slightly out from behind the furniture. He didn't quite understand what was happening.

"See the camera?" Kacchan queried, irritated by Izuku's insufficient response.

"..."

"Just tell me."

"Whatsa cam-era like? Din't see one."

"Oh, uh, damn." Kacchan cursed quietly, quickly coming up with a description, "Look where the door is and up. That thing is a camera. It's spies on kids."

"How you know this?" Izuku asked, in a state that was somewhere between awe and utter confusion.

"My hag mom uses one."

"Oh," Izuku responded. Unsure of how to treat such a statement. He wondered what it would be like to be spied on by Kaa-san. No, he couldn't imagine it. It's not heroic to spy on innocent children! Kaa-san was one of the most heroic people he knew! Tou-san too. And maybe Ichan.

Just maybe. He wasn't too sure about it 'cause of all the weird stuff she does when their parents weren't looking.

By the time Kacchan rallied his other friends, Izuku was antsy and excited to go exploring. It was going to be so fun! They could go see all the cool stuff there like the trees, that one creek, and maybe even find a playground!

"Okay, let's go when its head goes that way." Kacchan declared, taking a proud stance in front of the three boys. He peered his head around the corner while Izuku stared in awe; how could someone be so fearless? It was so cool that Kacchan knew what to do! He felt as if he were playing a game of pretend, and they were the heroes sneaking through the villain's base! If only Ichan were here, he always plays heroes with her. It felt almost un-kosher to be playing his favorite game with other kids he just met.

Nevertheless, Kacchan struck him out of his thoughts with a quick jab with the elbow. He put a finger to his lips and darted towards the door, right under the camera. A quick flash of fear overcame Izuku; wouldn't they be seen if they went _towards_ the spying device? Then his fear crumbled away, as he realized that Kacchan wouldn't be doing it if he didn't know how the machine worked. It must be nice to know such useful things, especially when it helped to pretend to be heroes.

Izuku followed Kacchan's example, sprinting towards the door before the camera could look back at the spot they had just left. Kacchan simply waited until they were all underneath the door, which was _really_ tall now that they were close to it, and began dishing out orders again.

"I can't open it, so you do it, _Fingers._ "

The boy with extendible fingers shrugged and had at the door. Within no time, the boy's oddly stretched fingers wrapped around the door handle and slid it sideways, effectively opening the door without a sound. Izuku was in shock, such a cool Quirk! He had only seen Kaa-san's and Tou-san's before, so it felt invigorating to see another person's Quirk in action.

He couldn't exactly describe the feeling that was mounting in his chest as the group slipped outside. It was swift and thundering, as though his heartbeat was hammering against his flighty little chest. Yet, it wasn't quite that either. It was really all around his body, he noted. He sensed it in his fingers, his head, his legs, everywhere! If only he had the name for it, he swore he had heard it somewhere before.

He kept muttering to himself, sifting through his vocabulary to find that one word. Now, what was it? Tou-san mentioned it at least once before. Maybe it was… could it be? Aha! He had found his word, it was–

"Now what are you boys doing out in the hallway?" a sickly sweet voice droned at them, causing Izuku to shrink into his shirt neck and wish he had the ability to disappear. The word, he realized too late, was _panic_ because somewhere deep inside, his instincts were screaming that this would only end in disaster. His brain just didn't get the memo. The feminine voice was coming from _right behind them_ and Izuku just wanted to dematerialize, to do just _anything_ to not exist right there, right _now_.

He was about to turn to Kacchan, to ask him what ideas he had for this problem, but it seems as though he was the only one left in the hallway. In his own bout of panic, he had failed to realize that the mastermind and his accomplices had abandoned him entirely for their own self-preservation. He felt as though he were about to burst into tears, was he going to get into trouble? He turned around to face her, ready for a furious tone to follow.

Instead, he was greeted with a slight smile.

"Shush, I know that type of face. You're not in trouble." She coaxed him while reaching out a hand for him to latch onto. He did just that, burying his face into her forearm. She continued, "If you were guilty, then you would have run away. Just like that! Though, can you tell me why you're out here, Sweetheart?"

"I wanted ta' go explorin'," he sniffled, not having the capacity to lie to such a merciful woman.

"That's not so bad, is it?" she gave him a pat on the head and had a small chuckle, "The real crime would be not fessing up, but we can talk about this later. It's nap time, alright?."

"Okay," he relented, rubbing his still watery eyes and trying to his shame behind her arm.

Something else began stewing in the back of his mind, but he was too shaken to actually care about it. He just wanted to sleep off the embarrassment. Such a series of emotions within ten minutes was tiring for him, both mentally and physically. The nice lady led him back to the playroom and helped him into his futon. He grabbed All Might from under the covers and snuggled up against the rigid, plastic toy.

He fell into a fitful sleep, and he couldn't shake that growing, festering feeling.

・・・・

 **Hope you enjoyed folks! I'll now return to the horrific midterms that are coming up, and the next update will probably happen mid-February.**

 **3-8-18 ~ Sorry, that was a dirty lie. Probably this month, but no promises.**

 **7-9-18 ~ Sorry, that was an even dirtier lie. You know what? No more promises, I'll just do it by August.**

 **And that's it. See you all in the next chapter!**


	11. Cauterize

**I suck at updating ~Me**

 **Warnings: basically a quirk splurge, fire bois, guilt, some angst, and a bit of family bonding.**

 **Disclaimer: Huh Durr, I don' own My Hero Academia. Only my Original Character.**

 **・・・・**

 **Text Key:**

 _ **Italics**_ **= Emphasized thoughts/text/dialogue**

・・・・

So, right. Where were we?

Ah, yes. Screaming.

There I was, laying down in my _crib_ , forcibly breathing fire out of my mouth. As you can probably guess, screaming did _not_ help my situation; if anything, the fire only grew in intensity.

On the bright side, it did attract the attention of others.

Otou-san burst into the room in a frenzy, Oka-san following in hot pursuit, and, with a mere glance into the room, dashed towards the closet in the hallway. Oka-san tried to get me to breathe, but my lungs were incompetent as fuck and refused to cheese their teats. It was at that point that Oka-san went into damage-control mode and just tried to prevent the spreading of fire to the _very much flammable_ crib and carpet while also ducking me to keep from starting a building fire. It was, as one could guess, quite _enjoyable_.

In the meantime, Otou-san had managed to scrounge up the fire extinguisher that he kept in his closet, which was fair enough for having a fire-breathing Quirk as an adult, and proceeded to assault me with a cloud of good 'ol carbon dioxide.

The fire was successfully smothered, yes, but the next hurdle made itself evident quite quickly: I was covered in _fire extinguisher contents_. Otou-san let out a girly shriek as he slapped a puff of carbon dioxide off of my face, allowing me to _breathe_. A collective sigh escaped everyone's throat at that moment, and I blinked owlishly at the coat of cloud-like stuff I was covered in.

I registered the deathly glare that Oka-san was sporting towards Otou-san, and the man responded immediately in fear of his own safety, "I'll take her out to the beach park and you can call my fire-proofing guy. Okay?"

Oka-san was effectively soothed and she swiped Otou-san's phone from his suit pant's pocket before dialing a number in and walking into the next room with a slanted expression plastered onto her face.

Otou-san, with some level of hesitation, shook off the rest of the carbon dioxide and clamped his hands around my jaw with a little more force than necessary. His eyes glinted with pity, but he remained firm with his grasp.

"I won't let up until we reach the beach, Ichido," the turned around and headed towards the front door with some speed, "So just bear with me for now, okay?"

I nodded with understanding, and I wondered just how I could figure this whole thing out.

・・・・

Dagobah Municipal Park Beach was, to say the least, an absolute heap of trash.

Of course, this didn't quite strike me as familiar until Otou-san and I arrived at the actual place.

And, _of course_ , it had to be the very same spot that Izuku would train it, didn't it?

The man had let up on his jaw death-grip, he apologized profusely afterward as well, but I could still feel the smoke billowing out of the sides of my mouth. At the very least, I wasn't Quirkless.

Still, with a Quirk like this? It seemed like a massive bother, and I didn't necessarily know what to do with myself.

Otou-san guided me past the worn gate into the park and past the heaps of trash, scowling indiscriminately at the piles of steel and junk that littered the to-be-beautiful beach. The stacks of industrial garbage lessened as we neared the shoreline and Otou-san stopped dead in his tracks once we were met with ocean water.

"Take a deep, _deep_ breath," Otou-san bent down to my level and put a reassuring hand on my back. My uneasiness wasn't quelled, but he kept trying to appease my Quirk, "Now point straight towards the ocean and just let it _out_."

I did as he said and sucked in a heavy breath, trying to hold it until I had my face directed towards the ocean where nothing could _burn_. I looked back at him and saw his awkward smile stretched across his face, and it was hard for me to feel upset about the situation.

Regardless, he kept rubbing my back softly and singing praises with his soft, low tone.

The sun softly glared in the corners of my eyes as the ocean's waves grew louder and louder in my mind, the noise rattling my brain. I held my breath in with dread, and I could feel the smoke building up in my throat.

"Come on, Ichido," Otou-san sighed and continued rubbing my back as if to let out a burp or something. He looked at me in concern and tapped his nose twice, "If you don't let all that fire out, you're gonna blow smoke out of your nose. Your Ojii-san used to tell me that if I didn't let myself breathe, I would turn into a _dragon_."

He opened his mouth wide in a mock scream, holding up his palms and wriggling them about, and he let a little, _tiny_ flame escape his throat.

"Rawwr," he grinned, with that same awkward smile back on his face. He was ridiculous.

Too bad, I just love ridiculous.

I snorted loudly, flinching a bit at the volume of black smoke that escaped my nose, and tried to suck in another breath. Another thought struck me in the meantime:

Did this mean that I was immune to smoke? Could I run into a fire and not have to worry about smoke inhalation? If I was, this sounded like a _massive_ boon for what it was worth.

Regardless of that line of thought, I slowly let out a breath, still panicking as the fire escaped my mouth in a surprisingly cool stream. So, my throat must have been heat-proof to not feel the raw heat. Another perk, sweet.

The flames drifted forward for a short bit before flickering into nothingness, and I realized that my lung capacity wasn't doing the fire any favors. Was that how it worked, then? Oxygen is flammable, thank my chemistry class, so the flames must have been feeding off of my lung supply.

I felt a little dizzy as I grew short of breath. Yep, so I couldn't overdo it, especially with the threat of fainting hanging over my head.

Yet. I would have to work on my lung capacity in the future, but that's not the focus right now.

Right, breathing control.

I pulled in another breath and repeated the process again, breathing out until my lungs were sputtering for air. Otou-san looked on with caution, and he observed my current state with a thoughtful expression.

He spoke after a few sets of the exercise, stopping me mid-way between another attempt at mitigating my hysterical breathing, "I think that's enough. I want you to try to turn it off _completely_."

"How?" was the first word that shot out of my face, garnished by a wonderful spurt of fire from my mouth. I covered it instantly with my hands, equipping a blanched face.

"It-It's hard to explain _that_ , honey," He said thoughtfully, and his freckles were squished inwards as his face scrunched in thought. He looked to the side and sighed a bit, "I really can't do better than your Ojii-san's explanations, so you'll have to deal with them. He used to say that it was like an on and off switch in your brain. Like this, if I want to breathe fire, I flick the light on–"

He made a clicking noise, flicking his index finger up, for dramatic effect and breathed out a little puff of smoke. He made another click, which was just as ridiculous as before, flicked his finger down, and breathed out again, this time without the hazy, ashy air.

"–and I flick the light off to stop. I'm not good at analogies, but it's the best I can think of right now."

It briefly struck me that I had never met my grandfather, none of my grandparents _either_ , but I didn't let it faze me that much. If someone wasn't involved in your life, they probably didn't care enough to be in it. That was settled in my mind within a brief few seconds.

And then, it really struck me how weird that "full glass" and "microwaved pastry" analogy was now that I thought about it. The Light Bulb explanation had nothing on those two.

Again, I drew another breath and closed my eyes this time around. The world around me went dark with the action, and I imagined two things in my mind: a light bulb attached to a switch. It was flicked up, and the light bulb lazily gleamed with the occasional flicker. The image was, to my surprise, extremely accurate given the level of skill I had at the moment. I could only imagine how bright it _could_ be with some work.

I let out the breath slowly, mentally imagining the bulb glowing brighter as I felt the cool stream of fire flow through my lips. Otou-san hummed lightly in the background as my face scrunched up a bit as my breath grew short again.

When I stopped and inhaled again, the light bulb went dim again, and the switch remained flicked up. Okay, the image was ingrained into my head, but how could I make the switch flip?

My brows furrowed as I thought about it, and I concentrated on making the image of the switch flip downwards. Could I just flip it without effort? Can it even be second nature? I huffed as I imagined a hand into the scenario, my own tiny one to boot, and tentatively flicked the mirage of a switch downwards. I attempted this for almost ten minutes, exchanging breaths before my concentration was enough to finally make it flick down. The change was instantaneous, the itching in my throat suddenly ceased.

I let out a breath, opening my eyes, and nothing came out. My eyes darted to the side, towards Otou-san, who was beaming with pride, and then back in front of me.

 _No fire_.

"Victory!" I screeched, arms going into the air. Otou-san clapped exaggeratedly in the background.

"Bravo, bravo!" he jested around, smiling his awkward grin as his clapping slowed. He bent down to my level, a shameful two feet, and faced me. He encouraged me, pumping his fist up, "You think you can try that a few more times? Show me that you can conquer it!"

I nodded ardently and tightened my focus again. Though, this time, I tried to do it with my eyes open. If I was gonna be a hero, then I would need to tighten my ability to enable and disable my Quirk, even in less than a second. I focused on the sounds of the ocean and the mental image of the light bulb attached to a switch again, willing it to flick upwards. With some tentative nudging from my metaphysical finger and some gratuitous squinting, the switch went back up with a satisfying click and the itchy feeling in my throat resumed again.

"Haaaah~" I groaned a bit, trying to see how my voice affected the flame that poured out. It flickered a bit as it left my lips, but it otherwise remained pretty similar to the flames from just plain breathing. My jaw shut with a muted _clonk_ and I could feel the wild dancing of the embers in my throat.

Switch down, and the itching went away instantaneously. It took less than 10 seconds this time.

I kept flicking the metaphorical switch back and forth just to really understand the mechanics behind my Quirk. It seemed really simple, and it could pretty much be explained as a carbon copy of my father's Quirk so far. Of course, I hadn't discovered every aspect of my abilities, but it was clear that I had something decent to work with out of the starting gate.

It could probably become powerful with some work.

・・・・

"Ichido, I think that's enough for today," Otou-san had finally cut into my Quirk training.

We had spent about an hour straight honing my ability to turn my flames on and off, and I had it mastered to the point where I could take about two seconds to do so. It wasn't enough to deal with fast or unexpected attacks in the hero field, but I was convinced that I could make that time even shorter with practice.

Despite that, I agreed with Otou-san immediately. My throat was kind of sore, possibly another side-effect of my Quirk, and I wanted some water. Not ocean water, but _drinkable water_.

I wordlessly latched onto his arm with my chubby toddler hand and he began to lead me through the winding piles of trash. Soon we were met with the front gate of the beach, and I halted in my gait.

Otou-san looked at me confusedly and squeezed my hand lightly. His eyes darted forward and back to me, and the sun dipped below the piles of trash behind us.

"Can we come here every weekend?" I squeezed his hand back tightly, and I looked up at him with pleading eyes. I was gonna go the manipulative route if I had to.

He looked to the side, his hand raising towards the back of his head, and he sucked in some air through his mouth. A conflicted yet awkward smile adorned itself onto my father's face.

"Every two weeks?" his smile cracked even further as his hand began viciously scratching his scalp. He was sporting an especially nervous look, and I felt bad about thinking of pushing further.

"Hmm," I pondered out loud. I mean, two weeks wasn't _bad_. It wasn't that great either. I could imagine the progress made by me going and practicing every week being a lot better than every two weeks, but I had to keep his schedule in mind as well. I had time to spare, so it wasn't like I was losing that much either. I scowled a bit as I got ready to concede.

I raised a pinky.

"Pinky promise?" I was playing on my adorableness as much as I could. This was something that I knew could buy me a lot until I got older, so I was gonna milk it to the very end.

"Uh-huh," Otou-san's pinky linked with mine, and he grasped my hand in his. He moved forward, jerking me a bit in his direction, and said, "Now it's time we get home, your mother should have had the house fireproofed."

Fireproofed.

Huh.

・・・・

It was jovial; a scene brimming with some sort of unknown, incomprehensible joy that I took part in without much thought. I was sure a stranger could walk in on the event and instantly understand everything.

I bristled lightly as Otou-san leaned over me to light the candles. The scene was small and comfortable, just the family. The perfect idea of a fourth birthday party.

The years had passed by in a snap, and nothing much had changed regardless of the change.

Everything was perfect.

The cake, an All Might one per Izuku's request, sat idly in front of the both of us. Oka-san had the camera ready right behind Otou-san while he sharp-shot a small ember at the large, four-shaped candle that All Might was boisterously holding in his 2D caricature.

Everything was perfect.

My smile faltered a bit. Well, not quite. The guilt and fear that had sweltered and ballooned in me sat like a rock in the bottom of my stomach, pinching at my nerves as this day had approached. When it arrived, I still wasn't ready. Despite that, I still went into this smiling.

I was going to be four again, but what did that mean for Izuku?

The guilt swarmed a bit more as I swallowed to keep my grimace from showing. I had thought about myself so much that Izuku never really came into my mind until the last month or so. I was fine; I had a Quirk, Otou-san was teaching me every other weekend, I had everything registered, I didn't need a backup.

Everything was good.

For me.

Then I remembered that Izuku's life wasn't going to sail as well as mine, and the inability to do anything about it wore like shackles on my feet. I had dragged them for so long without noticing them until now, and it was only now that these chains felt so heavy.

We were four today, and tomorrow would be the appointment with the Quirk specialist to see what was _really_ going on with Izuku. The fallout, I had seen the scenario over and over again in my damned head, would be irreversible.

How would I, the _lucky_ child born with both a Quirk and unspeakable knowledge, even begin to understand the tragedy of being powerless? Without a Quirk, I had been fine, but that was because I lived in a different time.

Without a Quirk, Izuku will _suffer_. Especially here, and especially _now_.

Otou-san finally stopped leaning in front of me and dove right behind us once more. They started singing.

My eyes subtly slit towards Izuku who was awkwardly curled in on himself while wearing a genuine, yet shy, smile. All that would be decimated, and for what? Why did his Quirklessness mean the end of _this_ Izuku?

A part of me wanted to sob at the unfairness of the situation, to hold him tight and just pity him into nothingness. Another part simply accepted the futility of the situation; life wasn't fair, it never was, but the innocent always suffered the most.

My dull, gray eyes went out of focus as I stared blankly into the open flame. A crooked smile wove itself into my face, and I let myself be consumed by the atmosphere in one fell gulp.

"–happy birthday to you!"

Izuku sputtered all over the cake, getting spittle everywhere _except_ the candle, and finally extinguished it with an incredibly large wheeze.

Like it or not, tomorrow was the turning point in both of our lives.

Otou-san and Oka-san started clapping exaggeratedly.

I knew I couldn't let Izuku fall, not when I could lend a shoulder to lean on in the following years.

My eyes hardened as I clapped aimlessly.

・・・・

I fidgeted with my fingers listlessly in the small office of the Quirk specialist. This wasn't like the pediatrician's office; there were fully grown adults in the room waiting to be seen for who knows what.

The three of us inconspicuously occupied three consecutive seats in the cramped room, and Izuku restlessly bounced in his seat as he awaited the results of the X-ray he had taken not five minutes ago. Despite the uncertainty of the situation, Izuku was giddy as he rocked his head back and forth in anticipated excitement.

It physically hurt to watch. I knew, _I just knew_ , I would witness him break today.

I could only hope to pick up the pieces. My morale sat at my feet, not even daring to rise.

I huffed.

"Ichan, be patient," Oka-san chided lightly, slinging an arm around my shoulder. She looked pointedly at me, "These things just… take a while. We need to give the doctor time to make sure that Izuku is o-o-okay!"

She pumped her arm excessively to distract me a bit, and it almost worked. I sighed.

"Okay."

"Yes!" she squeezed me tight. She stuck her arm out with a thumbs up, "Okay!"

My nose wrinkled a bit at the cheesiness, but I let her have her fun. Izuku just seemed to get even more hyper. He couldn't even properly verbalize his excitement; his mouth was just muttering a stream of words I couldn't decipher save the words "Quirk" and "All Might".

I resumed staring at the floor, truly examining the carpet. It was dinky and smelled a bit moldy. I kept boring into it until I didn't care anymore, and even then I kept on.

It felt like ages until a sharp voice cut into the room.

"Midoriya Izuku?"

A man with a bald scalp, green tinted goggles, and a brown clipboard leaned into the room from the open door to the examinations room. His maple-brown mustache twinged a little bit as his eyes drifted from the clipboard to the inhabitants in the room.

"Ah, that's us," Oka-san said offhandedly. She grabbed the two of us by the hand and looked down at Izuku, "Are you excited?"

"Uh-huh, uh-huh!" he was practically twirling around in delight.

I kept a straight face on as we were led into the room, and my expectations for any positive outcome immediately plummeted once I met the slanted expression of the specialist. He wore the news on his face, and my stomach churned.

He took a seat in his armchair, leaning back a bit with crossed arms and let Izuku take a seat on the stool in front of him. The man quickly put up the X-ray on the board next to him and pulled up Izuku's records on the computer.

With a sigh, he delivered it:

"You should probably just give up."

The words were cold, harsh, and unfiltered.

This time, however, there was no laughter, no comedy in it. All Might's plastic figurine met the floor in a heartbeat, and Izuku was stricken with wide eyes. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes, and I felt as though I just watched a puppy get kicked.

His fingers paled as he squeezed his knees tightly.

The conversation proceeded nearly identically to what I could remember from my memory, but, before presenting the solid "joint" evidence, the man brought up me.

"Look, since his twin is fraternal, they're essentially normal siblings. That's about 50 percent shared DNA. What's her Quirk?" the man asked flippantly.

"Oh," Oka-san looked unprepared for this, but her frown deepened as the conversation dragged on, "She can breathe fire, like her father, but she can control the direction of where it goes somewhat. A combination of mine and my husband's Quirk–"

Ah, I figured that other aspect of my Quirk by accident. I had fallen over a few months ago while practicing at the beach and as my body tilted downward, so did my flame. At least I got a glass figure out of the burnt sand. I didn't have control over it yet, but I didn't really care for that right now.

"–but how does that affect him?"

"If they share about 50 percent of their genetic makeup, then they ought to share traits, wouldn't they? If your other child has received her Quirk already, then it would make sense for Izuku here to have already shown signs of his own," the man reasoned. With a sigh, he finally pointed at the chart with some finality, "The last thing I can do to show you that Izuku is Quirkless is to show you the toe joints."

He got up from the armchair slowly and laxly pointed a finger at the _two_ joins that stood in Izuku's X-ray.

"It's unusual to have two toe-joints nowadays," he squinted a bit as goggles made him look nearly emotionless, "If he had a Quirk, he would have only one joint. I'm sorry, but it's hopeless to think that he'll develop one."

He didn't look sorry, and I wanted to scream, but I knew better than to let my emotions take the reins. What would it accomplish? No, my time was better spent trying to put Izuku back together.

But, was there anything left to salvage?

・・・・

It was depressing the number of times I had heard that video play today. The old video, the one of All Might's debut, had been blasting from our shared room for the last three or so hours, and I grew increasingly paranoid for his future.

Otou-san hadn't come home yet and Oka-san had helplessly tried to apologize to Izuku. Regardless of what either of them could do, I knew my approach had to be optimistic. I was the only person who actually believed in Izuku; however, I couldn't _truthfully_ say that he could be a hero without a Quirk. Maybe it was hindsight speaking, but Izuku shouldn't be misled like that.

No, I had to encourage him to go on despite not having a Quirk, but I can't tell him to outright shoot his shot without a power altogether.

I got up from my sunken position in the couch and tip-toed towards our room while Oka-san observed silently, soundlessly from the corner of the kitchen. Even she couldn't stand to do anything while my brother was suffering. I ignored the sounds of sobbing and just peeked through the door tentatively. Fingers curled around the hem of the door, I saw Izuku curled in on himself while choking on tears to the debut video.

This just wasn't healthy.

I walked in slowly through the door, letting it click shut behind me, and I approached a bit loudly to let him know I came in. It didn't feel right to say anything, not now.

He sniffed violently before meekly rubbing his arm against his nose in a futile attempt to pull himself together. He shifted the chair a bit to face me, all kinds of fluids running down his cheeks freely.

"K–Kaa-san said she's s–s–sorry," he wiped again at his face, successfully smearing more tears and mucus onto his shirt. He coughed a bit and wiped a few tears away before they could fall, "Ichan… do–do you t–think, " he choked again, "that I could be a hero?"

He gazed at me with expectant, watery eyes. I fumbled with my fingers as I tried to ignore the stones of guilt that weighed heavily in my stomach.

"I–" I stumbled before catching myself. No, if I was going to tell him how I felt about this, I would need to take it seriously. I forced myself to make eye contact with him as my hands fell into fists at my sides, "I _know_ you can become a hero, Izuku."

He stopped mid-sob, and I knew that got to him. His pupils, almost dots in the vast sea of white, were trained onto mine with such scrutiny that it was nearly impossible to _not_ fidget under it. Despite this, I kept myself steady. I was his rock now, and I needed to stay _steady_.

Then, he started crying again, but this time with a wonky, bright smile written on his face. He–

He trusted me. It felt good, validating. Like something I had done had finally helped him in some _meaningful_ way. A surge of confidence went through me like lightning. It seemed that I wasn't done.

"But," I held my arm out, getting more upbeat with each second, "We'll do this together."

My arm remained outstretched for a few moments, perhaps even a few minutes, but eventually–

He trusted me enough to grab on.

From now on, it would be the both of us as a team. I squeezed his hand tightly.

・・・・

 **Yeah, I know. A short-ass chapter on the last day of August, yeesh.**

 **Await my return next month dearest readers. I use my tumblr to tell you all about my update schedule, so check that out on my profile page if you're interested.**


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